


The Girl Upstairs

by agosu



Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイキュー
Genre: Akaashi Keiji is a Good Friend, F/M, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Neighbors, Not Romance, akaashi deserves a break tho, but i think itd be cute, i love konoha sm, kinda konoha/reader but only in my head, poor guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26123482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agosu/pseuds/agosu
Summary: Loud noises that came from the ceiling; sometimes every night, sometimes once a month. A quiet girl whose toes were as light as cotton or as heavy as lead."Maybe it was the wind," she used to say.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 116





	1. Friday 5th

**Trees swayed in** sync to the beat of the crickets' tune, the cold Autumn breeze taking the lead in a seasonal dance. It picked up and it slowed down, whistling loudly against the windowpane only to shrink into a gentle hum that kissed red noses. Protected by thick walls and the blessed central heating in Tokyo apartments, a group of friends chortled the night away on a couch, cracking jokes and chucking balled-up napkins at each other.

No such thing as an occasion to be celebrated or a spontaneous get-together to inflict emotional pain on the owner of the apartment. A simple Friday night gathering, in which they watched a movie for fifteen minutes while munching on popcorn, and later left it as background noise to engage in conversation. The usual. It had reached such a point that Akaashi knew better than to object.

Among all of his friends, only Akaashi's parents trusted their child enough to allow them an independent life. Said friends took advantage of an empty apartment to crash every single Friday and have the time of their lives. No matter the date, the weather, the season, or the bustling streets of Tokyo. Friday nights always meant sleeping over at Merciful Akaashi's—as his friends had dubbed him—cozy flat.

When exams loomed, chaotic group study sessions found themselves invading Akaashi's place. When snow fell, the comforting scent of hot cocoa wafted through Akaashi's place. When the summer sun scorched down on the city, the heat was beaten by the crisp air of the air conditioner unit, of course, at Akaashi's place.

With a heavy sigh and a ghost of a smile, Akaashi watched his friends trash his previously pristine apartment. Innocent bickering about the correct past tense of the word _yeet_ quickly escalated when Kuroo dared yeet an empty plastic cup at Bokuto. For some, it was a simple piece of plastic that flew through the air and tapped Bokuto's chest. To Bokuto, it was a declaration of war.

He sprang to his feet with a gasp, his shins impacting against the coffee table Akaashi had bought with his own money. The pain, however, did not compare to the sting of betrayal. Various drinks spilled on the polished wood. Bokuto flailed his arms over his head, and turned to his underclassman. "Akaashi!" he whined like a toddler. "Did you see that?!"

Akaashi stared unamused at the puddles of sticky soda decorating the cheap wood made to look expensive. With the same exhausted eyes, he craned his neck to meet Bokuto's exasperated gaze. A simple nod and Bokuto had obtained the wanted reaction.

It took him less than a second to pick a cup of water and fling it at Kuroo. His clothes, his hair, Kenma's shirt—who sat next to him—, the couch; _Akaashi's_ couch, of course. Everything splashed with cold water. Kuroo also rose to his feet, brows furrowed in discomfort. "You just yeeted water at me!"

"I _yote_ it!"

"Fuck you, you _yeeted_ it!"

"Yote!"

"Yeeted!"

"Guys, guys!" Finally, a voice of reason among the chaos. Known as the _Jack of All Trades, Master of None_ , Konoha waved his hands, wearing a relaxed smirk. The room fell silent, all eyes turned towards what they expected to be future words of wisdom. "Clearly, the correct term is _yoted_."

The word carried itself out of Konoha's mouth with such ease and smoothness that one would think truer words had never been spoken. However, Konoha held the most amount of bullshit bundled up in one body. In the blink of an eye, the attacks turned his way. Cups—empty, half-empty, and full—, bottle caps, profanities, crumbled napkins, popcorn kernels, Bokuto's slipper. They zoomed in his direction, knocked anywhere on his body, and elicited grunts of pain from him.

The sound of glass shattering brought them to a halt. Every single body in the apartment froze, breaths got stuck in throats. Silence consumed the room. Their eyes darted around in search of whatever they had broken. Apart from the—hopefully not permanently—ruined coffee table and the littered rug, not a single thing seemed out of place.

"Wha—What was… _that_ …?" Yaku had the courage to cut through the deafening silence. A collective sigh of relief resonated throughout the room, and shoulders relaxed.

Crunching followed. Not quite faint, but clearly distant. Impossible to pinpoint, but distinctly the sound of feet strolling calmly through broken glass. The piercing crunching which brought unwanted mental images; cringing and flinching and wincing.

"Where's that coming from…?"

Akaashi had an idea. Akaashi knew. A despicably familiar sound to his ears, not because he secretly walked on glass as a hobby. No. Familiar, but not entirely. He had heard similar things before, although they didn't include shattering and crunching glass. His eyes trailed to the white ceiling a few feet above him. He stared as if he could see through the cement; he _wished_ he could see through the cement.

"It stopped…"

Hums of agreement replied to Bokuto's observation. Akaashi lowered his gaze, turning to his upperclassman. But nothing could prepare them for the loud thump that struck their eardrums. Shoulders jolted and eyes darted upwards in a split second. A lonely, single, empty thump; it sounded once and left only silence to fall upon the pristine ceiling.

"…That was weird. What the hell's going on up there…?"

"Dude, that scared me shitless."

"Hope they're fine. It ounded like they broke a window or something."

Chatter bubbled to life once more, completely disregarding previous nonsensical banter and unexpected fright. In the midst of hilarious puns and hyena-like laughter, an inaudible broken wail reached Akaashi's ears. He glanced up on instinct to listen closely.

The relentless whistling of the wind on his windowpane drowned out any signs of his neighbor upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Alec Benjamin's "Must Have Been The Wind"


	2. Monday 8th

**Akaashi fumbled with** his long fingers as he patiently waited by the gate in the windy Autumn morning. He wanted to deem it his usual habit; keeping both hands close to his abdomen and listening to the occasional pop of his bones. But he knew better than to lie to himself. His eyes darted around the street parallel to his apartment building, lined with trees that had switched to warm colors to match the season. They bounced up and down, left and right, desperate to find a distraction.

And when the sound of the door opening behind him reached his ears, his arms would drop to his sides. Much to his confusing relief, the person that walked out didn't match who he awaited to see. First a man, then a woman, then another woman, and then a couple. _Good morning,_ he would nod, and _Good morning,_ they would reply while passing by.

Soon after the greeting, the people exited the premises and he was left to stand alone once more, only finding comfort to his anxiety in the fidgeting of his fingers. He hated to admit it, but nervousness flowed through his veins more than blood did. This perturbation presented itself solely because of a decision that took him two days to make: it was time to confront his upstairs neighbor.

His friends had said their goodbyes early Saturday, meaning Akaashi could finally clean up the lovely mess they had made; return everything to its place before Friday rolled around again and chaos ensued. Routine, honestly speaking. And as he tidied up his space, picking up trash and sweeping dust, his mind raced.

It raced with concern and curiosity, doubts and pity.

An entire year had passed since he moved into his apartment. Months upon months of cracking and crashing and smashing and breaking noises coming from his ceiling. Weeks upon weeks of what he could have sworn were sobs and wails and sniffles. Days upon days of seeing that girl only once in a while. Hours upon hours of debating with himself taking the elevator and checking in just in case.

The deafening shattering of glass piercing his ears became the spark that lit the bonfire. But as he shifted uneasy in the middle of the cold on a school morning, his worry morphed into apprehension. Asking questions after a year? It brought a sense of arriving terribly late at a murder scene—so late that the body had long decomposed. Not that he had ever showed up at a murder scene.

Soon, the desire to meet and converse with this stranger became hesitation and doubt. Perhaps she had no business leaving her place so early in the morning, perhaps she had already graduated school, perhaps she had long left. So little he knew about his neighbor that he doubted they lived in the same building.

The door opened behind him once more. Leaves crunched under the pressure of shoes; crunching that resembled the shattered glass three days prior. And not a second later, silence pushed through and stole the spotlight.

Akaashi's reluctance to turn around showed in the way he stiffly craned his neck. But there she stood, the girl upstairs, hiding the lower half of her face behind a teal scarf, stabbing him with wide eyes and furrowed brows. Immobile, frozen, maybe not even breathing; the only movement came from her hair as it danced in the wind.

She had stopped midway through the brick path connecting the main entrance to the metal gates. Her sharp pupils, round and large, glared shakily at Akaashi. Her head tipped down lower into her scarf, although her eyes barely budged.

Akaashi turned fully towards her. Standing a mere couple of feet away from her, he could at last take in all of her appearance. Her height, her hair, her gaze, her skin, her demeanor, her uniform. A grey blazer, buttoned up all the way; peeking from beneath the wool around her neck was a striped, teal-colored bow-tie tied around the collar of a white shirt; all finished with the plain black skirt. He knew that color combination all too well. It matched his.

A fellow Fukuroudani Academy student. He would've slapped himself if not for the glowering girl before him. How come he had never noticed? Having her right in front of him after a whole year helped him realize how little he knew about his neighbor.

The girl took in a deep breath through her scarf, before averting her wavering eyes to the street behind Akaashi. She stepped forward with unsure, wobbly feet and was soon wordlessly crossing the gates. Akaashi followed her with his sight as she walked by him.

He spoke the words he had rehearsed in his head for over half an hour, "Good morning." The girl froze, her shoulders jolting ever so lightly. A faint gulp sounded in the quiet morning. Her quivering eyes settled on him once more. "I'm Akaashi Keiji, your downstairs neighbor."

She stared silently at the outstretched hand. Cold fingers grasped his warm ones weakly and retracted before he could count a second. "[Surname] [Name]," she replied with meek words and an imperceptible nod. Up close, smooth skin became a touch of make-up in an attempt to cover dark eyebags.

"If you don't mind me asking, [Surname]-san, last Friday night I heard something shattering in your apartment." Blunt and straight to the point as he liked to be. He didn't miss the way [Name]'s gaze traveled to the floor. "Is everything okay? I would've asked sooner but didn't want to bother."

Her swift nod answered right as his lips closed. Her attention remained on the ground. "Everything's fine. Sorry for making you worry. Excuse me." The scarf on her face muffled her apology as she bowed and fled the scene.

Akaashi watched as she disappeared down the street, taking cautious steps which wobbled and teetered. Her clenched fists made his eyes narrow. He puffed out a sigh and allowed it to materialize into white steam. Huh. What had made her so afraid of him?


	3. Tuesday 9th

**A rumbling smack.**

Akaashi's eyes snapped wide open, only to be met with nothing but darkness. With a little bit of strain, he could make out the faint outline of furniture in his room, dimly illuminated by the little moonlight peeking through his curtains. He lay immobile in the comfort of his mattress, engulfed in the security of his warm sheets. He bounced his sight around the blackness, his breaths shallow and silent to listen closely.

Much like cleaning up after his friends every Saturday, being awoken in the middle of the night fell into the category of a routine. Sometimes a clap, sometimes a cry, sometimes a thud. This time, a smack; loud and deep, accompanied by a short reverberation. His brain took no time to recognize it and label it as wood. Something in the apartment above his had struck wood— _hollow_ wood.

Following that loud, awakening smack, the sound of papers fluttering and a few thwacks pierced his eardrums. His brows furrowed as he remained quiet, only listening and waiting for any indication that he should finally get up and ask more questions. He knew nothing about [Name] upstairs; nothing but that she had hit her furniture and dropped her papers.

What right did he have to start making assumptions? It may have been an accident. He couldn't recall how many times he had knocked down his own school material while studying at midnight. But the pit in his stomach and the sweat on his forehead told him his clumsiness did not equal her situation.

Shortly after, came a roaring thump that made his stiff shoulders jolt. A detestable thump abhorrently familiar to Akaashi's ears. One he always heard not long after being randomly awoken. One he had grown weirdly accustomed to. One that had graced him and his friends with its presence the previous Friday. One he had heard countless times before, yet still gave him that uneasy feeling he could never shake off. A thunderous thump he couldn't associate with anything, which left him completely in the dark about the events transpiring right above him.

The initial shock of the noise wore off his body, and allowed his attention to focus once more on the sounds beyond the ceiling. Desperate huffing and irregular panting. Repeating and repeating over and over. Then a long gasp to draw in air, a heavy gulp, and the continuation of the huffing, although much quieter.

Silence ensued. Emptiness. Nothingness. It seemed as though his hearing had been entirely cut off. His lids began weighing him down. He couldn't tell whether his eyes were open or closed. Until a hefty clomp reminded him he was wide awake, with eyes open and attentive ears.

Heavy footsteps. Toes and heels made of lead stumbling about and fading into the distance.

Once more, silence greeted him and enveloped him in a piercing embrace. It brought a deafening ringing that settled on his eardrums and drilled mercilessly into his brain. How could silence be so loud?

Time passed—Akaashi allowed it to pass. It may have been mere seconds or endless minutes, but it passed as he waited. Patiently, he remained motionless and wordless, awaiting the moment his neighbor kindly showed him another sign of life. She had walked away, yes, but in which state? Huffing and puffing were never part of his midnight study sessions.

Was she okay?

 **The digital clock** on his phone screen had not only shown the time to be 2:43 AM, but also nearly blinded Akaashi. The quietness coming from [Name]'s apartment after such a commotion left a bitter taste in his mouth. Peacefully drifting back to sleep sounded extremely tempting, but counting sheep became bothersome at three hundred and eighty-two. He knew he wasn't getting any more sleep until he checked up on his neighbor; not with that white ceiling mocking him for not being able to see through it.

On any other day, he would've hesitated and sat to ponder another minute or so. However, after their talk—if he could call it a talk—that Monday morning, any ruckus she caused in the confines of her walls wouldn't be taken lightly anymore. A step being slightly heavier than usual meant ripping off his bedsheets, throwing on a hoodie, and pushing the fourth button on the elevator.

Akaashi tiptoed through the freezing hallway, the shadows seemingly creeping up behind him to wrap him up and take him with them. Despite having settled in that building for over a year already, he had never felt the need to go beyond the third floor— _his_ floor. But it had to be done. Or at least he felt it _needed_ to be done.

After squinting at numerous numberplates and counting down doors, he set eyes on the one he dreaded the most. Apartment 404, the apartment right above his apartment 304.

The hesitation at last seeped in. Who in their right mind knocked upon a door at such ungodly hours of the night? Had he stalled a couple more minutes, the clock would have struck three o'clock in the morning. In the midst of his doubts and the fidget of his fingers, he double and triple and quadruple checked the three digits nailed to the door in front of him.

The numbers never changed as the room behind them kept being apartment 404. With furrowed brows and an exhausted huff, he pressed his ear to the door. He knew all about the noises coming from [Name]'s flat. In search of confirmation, whatever he heard behind the door would reassure him he stood at the right place—or send him on his way to find the correct room.

A choked sob. A cut-off hiccup. A faint sniffle.

Apartment 404: [Name]'s apartment.

His knuckles brushed against the wood, right below the numberplate, and knocked gently to catch [Name]'s attention. The room fell quiet on the other side. That ear-splitting silence once more. The same one that had rattled his brain as he lay on bed, it came back to choke him from behind and blow his ears to smithereens.

He heard the click of the door's lock, helping him wave off the ringing in his ear. A gap appeared between the door and its frame as [Name] slowly pulled it ajar. She peeked through with her wavering eyes, gulping when she realized who had called for her at three in the morning. Or he thought she did; he couldn't tell very well with her jacket zipped up to her chin.

The dusky light shining down on her allowed him to take in her reddish eyeballs and the dark bags underneath her eyes. Even if he had wanted to, he couldn't take a look at her inky room. Had he come for a friendly check-up or clues to find out what [Name] did at night?

"Um… Can I help you… Akaashi-san…?"

His gaze darted back to [Name]. She had her sights glued to her feet and spoke with a quivering voice. Akaashi pasted a comforting, tiny smile on his lips. "Is everything okay, [Surname]-san? I heard some loud noises."

Her tired eyes became wide, brows pulled down into a frown. "Um… No, sorry, I didn't hear anything." Her knuckles turned pale as she grasped her door and tipped her head down. "Thanks for worrying, but I've got to… head back in. If you don't mind…" [Name] gently pushed on the door while taking a step back.

"No, of course." Akaashi's voice made her freeze. Her breath disappeared halfway through her throat. She jerkily enlarged the gap to look at her neighbor. "If anything's wrong, I'm always downstairs."

That reassuring nod, initially supposed to make her feel welcome and secure, instead dried her mouth until her tongue grooved. [Name] nodded back. "Thank you." She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled warmly. "Don't worry much, Akaashi-san. Good night."

"Good night, [Surname]-san."

As the door shut and his ears picked up the clicking of a light switch, an algid gust of wind slapped his face and nipped at his skull. Akaashi shivered. It had slipped out of [Name]'s apartment. The hallway didn't seem as freezing cold anymore.


	4. Tuesday 9th

**Mornings during mid-Autumn** freeze up every last inch of one's body. Spending forty minutes confronting the buting wind, expecting someone that might never arrive, only made it worse. Akaashi didn't let it bother him; patience had always been one of his many fortes. He stood by the metal gates, stifling a yawn every now and then after his interrupted sleep a couple hours prior.

It was _due_ to his eventful night that he took his chances one more time and chose to wait for [Name] early in the morning. He didn't have all the facts, not at all, but he had _some_. And _some_ were enough to make him step in without a moment's hesitation. He had heard thumps and thwacks and clomps and smacks from the warm safety of his blankets. He had heard sobs and sniffles and wails and hiccups while standing at the mercy of the fourth floor's algid hallway.

What else did he need to conclude his neighbor was _not_ okay? Was he overstepping his boundaries?

The concerned glances at his watch only piled up by the second, until he knew he couldn't stretch time out any longer. With furrowed brows, he glared at the hands of his miniature clock; not even the previous morning had she taken so long to show up. Akaashi sighed, defeated.

He walked alone to the train station, like he did every day. He wondered if it was the right thing to do. The tingling of his skin and the pit in his stomach pestered him endlessly, insisting he shouldn't have been on his own that morning.

 **The ball approached** Akaashi's face menacingly, his eyes fixated on and only on it. His arms raised on instinct, fingers separated to welcome it and set it to his teammates. Deciding who had the better odds of scoring a point usually took less than half a second. Akaashi could effortlessly read the mood, analyze the situation completely, and toss the ball towards the best option available on a whim.

 _Usually_. At the moment, as he stood on the court, blocking out the squeaking of shoes and ignoring the sweat on his forehead, his mind had traveled down a different path. Instead of crossing out options and setting the ball, he scowled in mild frustration at the thought of [Name].

A gloomy cloud of worry loomed above his brain, blinding everything and anything related to volleyball or academics. [Surname] [Name]. The words circled in his head endlessly, and brought with them questions upon questions. Who was she? Sure, he knew her as his neighbor and a fellow student at Fukuroudani Academy. But there _had_ to be more.

How could he have never heard of her? How come he had never seen her before? What was she doing to not show up in the morning? What was she doing at night? Why was she doing it? What was going on? Who was she?

When he had tried finding her restless face among the sea of students, the only thing he ended up with was failure. All those nameless people walking around—nameless just like she had been before Monday. He knew nothing. He had no answers. He held only questions; millions and billions and trillions of questions that twisted his brain without a hint for an answer.

The ball greeted Akaashi's open palms and settled there, grasped gently between his fingers. His neck remained craned upwards, brows knitted together in a contemplating frown. The Fukuroudani's Boys' Volleyball Team stared dumbfounded at their setter, gaping with unblinking eyes as he stood frozen on the court.

The players exchanged curious glances and clueless shrugs. An ear-splitting whistle blew. Akaashi jumped back to reality and shook the countless inquiries out of his head. The ball he had been holding dropped to the floor without a second thought and bounced away from his feet. Like a deer caught in headlights, Akaashi turned to his teammates while the coach called for a short recess. He wasted no time in apologizing.

Anyone could have an off day; this, although rarely, also applied to Akaashi. With a heavy sigh, he plopped down on the bench, dabbing at his forehead to get rid of the perspiration. He looked up when Bokuto towered above him. "Akaashi. What's going on?" Leave it to Bokuto to ask the question everyone wondered but didn't dare bring up.

Akaashi thought. He understood baseless and excessive worry weighed him down enough to make him malfunction. Phrasing it, however, turned out to be oddly complicated. He locked eyes with his upperclassman. "Bokuto-san, do you know anyone called [Surname] [Name]?"

Eavesdropping ears perked up at the sound of the familiar name. Bokuto brought a hand to his chin, furrowing his brows in thought. He let out an annoyingly loud hum to signify his pondering. "[Surname] [Name]… Hmm, [Surname]… [Name]… I think I've heard it before…" The ace racked his brains to associate the name to a face. He had it on the tip of his tongue. He had seen that name somewhere.

"She's in my class." Akaashi averted his attention to Shirofuku Yukie, his upperclassman and manager. "Some of the notes you borrowed from me last time were hers, Bokuto."

"That's an advanced student for ya." Bokuto snapped his fingers at Shirofuku, beaming content now that his recalling was brought to a stop.

"What is she like?"

The two upperclassmen whipped their heads at Akaashi. They knew he had a reputation for being blunt and speaking his mind; that didn't mean they expected a straightforward question. "What's this, huh? Do you have a crush on a senpai?" Shirofuku's signature critter-like smile widened into a playful grin.

Bokuto gasped, "No way! Is that why you're so out of it?!"

"She's my upstairs neighbor."

"Oh, the one from Friday?"

"Yes, I talked to her yesterday."

The unexpected sound of fluttering papers made Akaashi flinch. He turned to Shirofuku and settled his eyes on the stacked-up sheets in her hands. "If she's your neighbor, do you think you could take today's notes to her? She was absent. We've got a test coming up this week, so the teacher asked to bring her the material, but nobody knows where she lives." Shirofuku shrugged nonchalantly as she relayed the information. It seemed worthless to her, but it only brought more questions to Akaashi's brain.

"Oh, [Surname]-chan?" Suzumeda Kaori, also Akaashi's upperclassman and manager, peered over Shirofuku's shoulder to read [Name]'s name at the top of her notes.

"Yeah, do you know where she lives, Kaori-chan?"

"No clue." Suzumeda laughed, shaking her head and following it with a shrug. "Though she's been like that since we met her, so it's no surprise. She's really quiet and reserved, and always feels cold for some reason?"

"Yeah. She's also, like, super smart, too. Since I started borrowing her notes to study, life has never been easier."

"Oh, yeah, she shares her notes with everyone. She's really nice and polite."

Akaashi glowered at the documents in his hands, which he had gladly accepted responsibility of. He listened closely and registered every single word the third-years spouted. _[Surname] [Name]:_ it was written on the top corner of the papers. [Surname] [Name], every new statement regarding her only gave birth to more and _more_ questions. It wasn't just him who had absolutely no clue about her; even her classmates barely knew her name.

 **Apartment 404.** The number plate glared back at Akaashi, gleaming under the artificial lights in the hallway. Visiting the fourth floor in broad daylight lightened the situation at hand if only just a bit—compared to standing alone in an unfamiliar location in the middle of the night. He fumbled around his bag for [Name]'s missed notes and firmly knocked on her door.

Half a minute drifted away in silence, and Akaashi considered knocking again. As he raised his knuckles one more time, the click of the lock echoed through the desolate hallway. The gap she pulled open was even smaller than the previous night. He could only see a portion of her face peeking out and the faint frown on her lips. The zipper of her dark jacket jingled right below her chin. _Always feels cold for some reason,_ Suzumeda had pointed out. She wasn't wrong.

Without wasting another silent second, Akaashi waved the papers in his hand. "Hello, [Surname]-san." He nodded. She nodded back. "Shirofuku-san said you guys have a test coming up soon. You might need these."

"Uh, yes, thank you." [Name] looked away for a second, her lips pursing into a thin line. She shot a quick glance behind her and then pulled the door open enough to extend her arm out. "Sorry for troubling you like this." As Akaashi handed her the notes with a comforting smile, [Name] stuck her eyes to her feet. It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn she was trembling.

"It's no problem, I don't mind." He didn't miss the way her teeth pressed against her bottom lip. She shrank in on herself. Akaashi sighed at the sight; maybe he _was_ overstepping his boundaries after all. "I'll leave you now. If you ever need a study partner, you're always welcome downstairs." _Always_ , he had emphasized, no matter the time or day or occasion.

"Yes, thank you. Don't worry about me, Akaashi-san." She had already hidden behind her door before he could say his goodbye. The click of the lock resonated in his ears and left him to stand in complete silence once more.

It ate at his brain. Neither Shirofuku nor Suzumeda had mentioned anything about [Name] being that jumpy and fidgety. She looked at his face but never into his eyes, and she never allowed conversations to carry out beyond a few sentences. Polite, and quiet, and nice, and reserved. That didn't mean paranoid and constantly uncomfortable.

Akaashi grunted in discontent and turned towards the elevator a couple of meters away. His shoulders bounced and his eyes opened wide at the sound of cracking wood. He swiveled his head back to [Name]'s door, rushing to knock again. Nothing but silence answered him. He pressed his ear to the door, yet not a single sound could be heard. He knocked one more time.

Nothing.

"[Surname]-san?"

It didn't matter who she was or what she did. The noises from her apartment, her shaky behavior, her short sentences and never-ending apologies, the dots that refused to connect with one another. He understood she was far from okay. He was completely in the dark and it perturbed him.

[Name] needed help, and she needed it _fast_.


	5. Sunday 14th

**Numbers, letters, and** symbols stared up at Akaashi in an array of complex equations and empty grids. He had dropped the first problem when it told him to draw the graph. The second problem asked to subtract one equation from the other, and although he tried his best, he couldn't remember any method for the life of his. He finally jumped to problem number four after simply reading the third one.

Complete the table of values. Find x. Find y. Plot the graph. Subtract this, subtract that. Draw a suitable tangent. Write down the correct inequalities. The previous equation can be solved by drawing a straight line. Clatter. Smack. A drawn-out puff.

His pencil had rolled off his fingers and his forehead violently met the table he was working on. A frustrated huff slipped from his lips. For somebody like Akaashi, a flimsy quadratic equation and its pesky friends never presented much resistance when he sat down to solve them. He would swiftly scan over the statement, scribble down the equation given, punch the numbers down into his calculator, and done. Quick and simple, like it had been through his entire first year and up until that point.

The situation had changed. An annoying difference chose to barge into his home the moment he pulled out his homework sheet. The silence. The penetrating, suffocating silence seeping into his flat from upstairs. No thumps, no steps, no sobs. Nothing. Complete and utter silence, which rattled his head mercilessly and made it pound. His shoulders weighed him down and his fingers fought against each other awkwardly in discomfort.

Five days had passed since he last saw [Name]. Five days without a single sound reaching him. Five days in which his focus and concentration were nonexistent.

Wednesday, she didn't answer the door when he had knocked to check on her. He later got confirmation from the kind man at reception that [Name] had left for school earlier than ever. Akaashi chose not to bother her at school.

Thursday, she repeated the same schedule. During volleyball practice, Shirofuku approached him with news regarding [Name]—not that he had asked for any. Apparently, she had sat for the test and excused herself for the day.

Friday, the receptionist let Akaashi know [Name] had yet to show up. At school he found out thanks to his managers that [Name] had arrived late to class. "She seemed out of it. She was looking a bit pale, too." Shirofuku shrugged as she packed her things. "Nobody asked her anything. She would've said it was fine, anyway." Akaashi didn't engage much with his friends that night.

Saturday, he went out for a walk and a breath of fresh air. On his way out, the receptionist—whose name he still didn't know—informed him [Name] hadn't made it home the previous night. She had dropped her keys at the front desk and left without a word. He didn't bother tidying up his apartment.

Sunday rolled around and Akaashi slapped himself five minutes after waking up. Focus; he needed to focus. He had an apartment to clean and homework to get done with. Whatever [Name] went out to do, it did not concern him. At least, it shouldn't have. Because it worried him to his core, enough to hurt his fingers while trying to pop them a sixth time.

If he understood one thing, it was that [Name] had spent the past few days avoiding him to the best of her ability. And she was frighteningly successful. Maybe he _had_ overstepped his boundaries. He had made her uncomfortable, accidentally intruded more than he should have, involuntarily transformed a friendly hand willing to help into a hostile claw ready to tear her in two.

He couldn't figure out what to do anymore. Small talk ended up being awkward and inefficient, leaving [Name] to fidget nervously on the spot before scurrying away. He hadn't managed to get her phone number and heavily doubted she would give it away. Approaching her at school was left as his only option, but that was bound to make her discomfited again. He only wanted to talk, offer her some support, establish _at least_ an acquaintance to make her feel safe enough to stop trembling.

What in God's name was he supposed to do? Wait some more, maybe? Ask for information behind her back? Leave a note at her doorstep?

Akaashi crossed out the options that left him restless and uneasy—which were all of them. His jaw clenched, teeth gritted, lips pursed. Fuck it. He slammed his hands on the table, rising from his seat with a grating scrape of wood against marble tiles. He threw on a hoodie, shoved his feet into his outdoor shoes, and stomped confidently towards the elevator. If overstepping his boundaries meant actually helping [Name], then he might as well cross the line.

 **Having the elevator** already on its way up came to him as a sign that his feet were planted on the right track. He pressed down on the button to command it to stop on his floor and promptly stepped back. The steel doors slid open with a faint ring and [Name]'s wide eyes met his for a split second. She tucked her head into the safety of her teal scarf, pressing herself closer to the mirror walls.

"Nice to see you, [Surname]-san." Akaashi walked in, smiling at her even if she found her shoes to be more interesting. She cleared her throat and reciprocated the greeting with muffled words. "I was on my way up to your apartment."

"Oh, I, uh… I was heading out to buy, uh, some… stuff…"

A lie. Akaashi hummed. "Out for groceries?"

"Um, yeah, groceries." The reflection on the mirror next to her gave him a clear view of her quivering eyes. Her knuckles turned white around the strap of her bag.

"Do you mind if I join you?" [Name]'s eyes shot wide open, eyebrows pushing up into her forehead, lips parting in a circle shape. Her breathing stopped. As if Akaashi were a fictional dinosaur: if she didn't move, he couldn't see her. Akaashi chuckled lightheartedly at her silence. "Sorry for my forwardness. I'm in need of fresh air. My homework is killing me."

[Name] blanked. She inhaled shakily, raising her head even if just a negligible millimeter. She bit her bottom lip, eyes bouncing aimlessly in thought. "Well, um, if you're having trouble, maybe I could help you…?" She didn't look at him. Her lids shut tightly, her throat closed in on itself. She tried to gulp down the lump suffocating her.

"But your groceries."

[Name] cleared her throat. "No, no, it's fine, I… I can always buy them later." In one last attempt, she met Akaashi's warm eyes. Her lips curled into a polite smile. "Your homework's got a deadline, right? It'll be quick."

Maybe he was biting off more than he could chew. Maybe it wasn't as good of an idea as he first thought. [Name] had her sights set on swerving around him and having as little interactions with him as possible. Surely she had a reason for being so adamant, right? And now, she offered him to help with his homework. What could she be hiding to lie and work her way around it? Everything to avoid explaining her nightly absence and early morning leaves.

No matter. Akaashi nodded, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "Please, I'd appreciate it." Whatever it was, he knew he had to find out.


	6. Sunday 14th

**Warm.** Such a distant, foreign feeling. Akaashi's apartment embraced her gently with kind waves of warmth radiating from the floor and walls. It caressed her icy cheeks and relaxed her tense muscles. She breathed in deeply while kicking off her shoes; instead of the usual harshness of cold air burning her nose, she was met with the soft scent of pleasant vanilla.

[Name] unwrapped her scarf from around her neck, making sure the zipper of her jacket reached its limit. She gazed around the entirety of Akaashi's place; pristine walls, dustless tiles, shining windows, tidy furniture. Her eyes didn't waver, they didn't tremble—they admired, they appreciated, and they longed. They longed for such a welcoming place and the sense of stability it brought with it.

"You can go ahead and settle at the table." Akaashi's voice for once didn't make her jump. Much like his apartment, this time it felt comfortable; it brushed against her eardrums softly. "You can take off your jacket, if you'd like, it's warm in here. I'll hang your scarf." Polite and well-behaved. His arm stretched outwards, gesturing her to hand over her discarded garment.

[Name] blinked. _Her_ scarf. Her scarf, huh? Her safe scarf. Her warm scarf. Her kind scarf. Her soft scarf. How did she get her hands on such a wonderful scarf? As she looked around Akaashi's apartment, she realized she didn't deserve to have that scarf. It belonged with someone different, someone worth shielding from the cold and the cruel outside world. Someone like Akaashi. "It's fine." It wasn't fine. "I'll keep the jacket."

Akaashi nodded and hung [Name]'s scarf on the fashionable coathanger by the entrance. [Name] strode over to the dining table, where Akaashi's school material lay sprawled in a messy disarray of papers and pens. She pulled out a chair next to the one that Akaashi seemed to have been using, settling down her pencilcase and scanning the schoolwork. Akaashi headed to his kitchen, only glancing over his shoulder to take a look at his neighbor.

"Do you want anything to drink? I've got coffee and tea, maybe some juice."

[Name] looked up. Of course, offering drinks to guests was a common formality. It had slipped her mind—so much for inconveniencing him as little as possible. "Water will do, don't worry. Thank you." She had walked into his apartment with only one goal in mind: to not let him find out. It soon turned into two: to help him, not to cause any more trouble than needed. And she would follow through to the end.

 **Warmth can soon** become suffocating. It starts pleasant and comfortable, like lying on a soft cotton cloud. However, as it progresses without any obstacles, it gets hotter and hotter. Eventually, it burns. Even the smallest of flames will leave a mark. Having no icy cheeks to soothe or tense muscles to let loose, warmth attacks in waves of relentless heat.

Be careful what you wish for—was that how the saying went? Although [Name] never wished, at least not anymore. She knew better. Then why was she sitting on a cushioned chair, surrounded by impeccable furniture, and hearing the breathing of another human being? Not because she had wished for it; she wasn't the smartest, but wishing for what she couldn't have was downright stupid. She had been loud and reckless and careless. Things she couldn't afford, she had been all of them.

She was simply paying the consequences.

"Are you sure you don't want to take off your jacket?" Akaashi's eyes were far more attentive than she had expected—or her attempt at hiding her discomfort turned out completely useless. "It won't do you any good. I'll go hang it." And he also insisted far more than she could argue.

[Name] bit the inside of her cheek, pulling at it with her teeth. She tucked her chin down, reached up for the zipper, and reluctantly slipped her jacket off. "Don't worry. We've got more important stuff to do." She promptly changed the subject, reaching out for Akaashi's empty homework sheet. "Let's move on to quadratics. This shouldn't take too long; I actually like algebra a lot. Useless, but when you get the hang of it, pretty cool. Graphs, though…" She sucked in air through her teeth, then clicked her tongue. "Not a fan of those. The faster we do this, the less we'll suffer."

It stung. Words so empty and frigid in such a comforting warmth. A hypocrite. She should follow her own advice, shouldn't she? She would, soon enough.

"Oh, cool, you got the table of values down. Now, we just find the points, and graph." [Name] pushed on the button of her mechanical pencil while pulling the blank grid paper towards her.

Akaashi sighed, also getting to work. "That's the worst part." He should've protested as he watched [Name] take care of _his_ homework. But the focus on her eyes signaled him to remain quiet.

[Name] chuckled, puffing air out of her nose. "No kidding. I'll do anything; trigonometry, probability, symmetry—anything. But _graphing's_ where I draw the line." Akaashi blinked as [Name] connected the dots on his graph to draw a curve. After a moment of silence, her lips broke into a smile, and a short giggle slipped out. "I'm sorry, that was the worst of jokes. How many braincells did I kill?"

Akaashi mirrored her smile and shook his head. "That really caught me off-guard," he chuckled, "The joke was terrible, though."

"I do have more where that came from."

"I've got about seventy-three percent of my braincells left. I'm all ears."

[Name] laughed, her smile pushing her eyes into a squint. She slid Akaashi's worksheet towards its rightful owner. "First, there are some equations in need of subtraction. I know only elimination and… the other one…" Her mouth clamped shut, brows furrowed in thought. A hum resonated from the back of her throat. "Never mind, I only know elimination. Let's get to that. I suggest eliminating the x here."

"Any more jokes you'd like to tell?"

"You don't really want to go down that rabbit hole."

"I've got only eighteen braincells left, what more can I lose?"

[Name] tilted her head at Akaashi. He had put the numbers right in front of her, and she was taking them all. She hummed in thought, calculating inside her mind. "That means you only had around twenty-four point sixty-six braincells when I walked in here. Approximately."

"I didn't expect that. You're quick."

"Math's always been my thing." She glanced down at his paper. He had broken down the equation and scribbled a couple results— _wrong_ results. She laughed. "By the way, that one should be thirty. You don't function with eighteen braincells?"

"Don't worry about it. I know five times six isn't thirty-six. I'm just tired."

"Aren't we all?" Akaashi chuckled at her comment while erasing his miscalculation. [Name] began speaking, but it soon got lost among her yawn. She raised her head to look away, covering her mouth with her hand.

Akaashi ceased his writing. His eyes were locked onto [Name], lids narrowed and a small frown on his lips. "About Tuesday, [Surname]-san…"

"Ah, you can call me [Name], I don't mind. Formalities make me feel uncomfortable."

"Right, then, [Name]-san. After I gave you your notes on Tuesday, it sounded like something broke in your apartment. Something like wood, but I'm not sure."

[Name]'s heart sank into her stomach. Her surroundings lit up in raging flames once more; the cotton-like warmth became scorching heat, digging its teeth into every inch of skin. She should have known better. Warmth was for the warm, the ones soft and innocent, the ones that had always stood below the heat without getting burnt. The ones like Akaashi; those who gazed in genuine concern with mellow eyes, inviting and welcoming for a cup of warming tea.

Someone like [Name] could never stand the heat. [Name]'s kind belonged in the cold, undeserving of one single touch of warmth. For the better, not as a punishment. If someone meant for the cold got a taste—a mere whiff of the heat, they would want to go back for more. Heat that built up until it burned and suffocated and killed.

She had been wrapped up in Akaashi's flames for far too long; had she sat calmly in his apartment one more second, she would have never plucked up the courage to step back into the chill. He had managed to make her forget who she was, where she stood, and even the frigidity of coldness. He had reminded her how charming and delightful living could feel at times.

But that wasn't her purpose. She had stopped wishing for a reason. She couldn't afford to fall back.

[Name]'s lids narrowed as she averted her eyes to the side. With pursed lips, she lowered her chin and hid her face behind strands of hair. "I didn't really hear anything."

"You didn't?" Even when having Akaashi right beside her, his voice sounded so distant and foreign. [Name] shook her head. "It was pretty loud, though. Maybe I just imagined it."

"…Maybe… Yeah, maybe…" The silence they both knew all too well barged in without knocking. It settled itself between them, but mostly pressed down aggressively on [Name]'s shoulders. She nibbled her bottom lip. "I better go. It's getting late. I hope I was of help." A bit more of pressure and her lip would've bled. Her hands trembled as she packed her things and slipped on her jacket, too disturbed to zip it up.

Before Akaashi could insist on her staying, [Name] had already made a beeline for the door. Akaashi followed behind her. "Of course, thanks for helping me, [Name]-san. I've got a better grasp of it now."

She loathed the warmth Akaashi brought to her name with his dulcet voice. She was but a fool, nonchalantly asking him to address her so comfortably. Comfort was not something she should hope for, after all.

"No need. Really, there's no need to thank me. I'm just doing what I should do. Excuse me." She bowed and hurried off to the elevator. Just one floor, just one step, just one more second was all she needed to forget the kind embrace of Akaashi's warmth.

Her keys jingled as she unlocked her door. A freezing gust of Autumn air greeted her. Even with her jacket securing her gently, the chill found its way into her bones. She hesitated, standing still by her open door, feeling the algor wrap around her neck and torso violently, inviting her— _forcing_ her to step back into the cold. Where she belonged.

And in the cold she drowned once more.


	7. Wednesday 17th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning!  
> there's implied suicide ahead. stay safe.

**Three days: Monday,** Tuesday, and now Wednesday, almost seventy-two hours.  
  
[Name] had been avoiding him for three—almost—whole days since their short study session on Sunday. It wasn't the first time she completely swerved around any sort of interaction with Akaashi; she had acted similarly after his taking her school notes to her that past Tuesday. An event which, when he stopped to analyze its simplicity a bit deeper, he realized it brought more conflict than he had originally given it credit for.  
  
After that sickening noise of—what he believed to be—wood breaking, [Name] erased herself from his life for five days. After bringing up that same subject during that Sunday afternoon, [Name] darted out of his apartment in a hurry, resetting back to being fidgety and paranoid.  
  
This time, however, her behavior seemed to have changed. Before, she had successfully disappeared from sight; the only hint of her ever existing came from words of third parties. Now, she settled for _ignoring_ him—for lack of a better word.  
  
Early in the morning, for the last three days, Akaashi patiently waited for her at the gate. Surprisingly, she showed up not too long after him. Her heels furiously dug into the bricks with every step she took, echoing in his ears as she speed-walked past him. Those heels sometimes built with lead; sometimes simply feathers.  
  
 _Good morning, Akaashi-san,_ her voice, slightly muffled by the collar of her jacket, stabbed his eardrums with its unwavering harshness and throaty tone. Every time, Akaashi blinked flabbergasted as she turned round the corner and stomped to the train station on her own.  
  
Akaashi knew little to nothing at all about [Name]; he had made sure to carve that fact into his brain to remain aware. But he was willing to learn more, to understand, and to give her the help she much needed—the help he _assumed_ she much needed. Saying he could start to understand some things was too much of a stretch; he was _learning_ , slowly but surely.  
  
The previous Sunday, once she begrudgingly entered his apartment, she breathed in deeply and her tense posture fell. She got rid of that teal scarf he barely ever saw her without, and although her jacket remained zipped all the way up, he could finally hear her voice clearly. It caught him absolutely off-guard; never had it crossed his mind that a girl as meek and jumpy as [Name] could have such a sturdy voice. Words fell useless when trying to describe it—a smooth stone, one which didn't crack and never allowed anyone to move it, soft to the touch yet unbreakable.  
  
During that impromptu study session, Akaashi found she had the ability to maintain eye contact. He had glanced over his shoulder to ask her a question, and nearly got whiplash by the way the look in her eyes slapped him. She held the most neutral of expressions; calm, collected, composed, _cold_.  
  
Akaashi understood why her classmates described a person completely different from what he'd encountered. It made him wonder which [Name] was the real one. Perhaps the one who shivered on the spot, shuffling awkwardly and hiding her face? Or the one with serene eyes, sharper than any blade around the globe, staring at him with firm pupils he had seen tremble?  
  
Akaashi had felt the progress, he had felt her warming up to him, cracking jokes and showing off her quick wit. She even discarded her jacket; given, after much reluctance—and endless insistence on his part—, but discarded it nonetheless. [Name] laughed and joked and sat comfortably right beside him on his chair. Certainly, if the circumstances had been different, the two of them would have been great friends.  
  
But, as it turned out, Akaashi had bitten off more than he could chew. She seemed to be enjoying her stay at his place and his company; she seemed happy and full of life; she seemed _fine_. She wasn't, though. He had forgotten about it—about why he had accepted her offer to study a subject he knew inside out and upside down.  
  
On [Name]'s exposed neck, the one Akaashi had never seen even once since he formally met her, a faint red line circled around her skin and got lost underneath her hair. To make his suspicions worse, two purple bruises no bigger than a coin positioned themselves asymmetrically right by the sides.  
  
No wonder she always felt cold.  
  
Seeing those blemishes on such a frail body part snapped him back into reality. He brought up the sound of cracking wood from Tuesday. [Name]'s face lost all its blood. He didn't miss the way her eyes averted to the floor and how her chin tucked downwards once more. One glance at her uneasy expression told Akaashi he had instantly thrown all of that progress out the window with just one question.  
  
The [Name] that had quietly reared her head over those looming steel walls, built by none other than herself, quickly swapped places with the [Name] that dug bottomless pits to hide herself forever.  
  
 **The stirring in** his stomach had forced him to skip practice and head home early. But he knew better. It wasn't a threatening cold or the after-effects of food gone bad; it was a _pretext_. A pretext he had come up with to fortuitously meet his neighbor at the train station. If he wasn't in shape to practice, then better go home early, get some rest, and come back as good as new the following day.  
  
And have an unavoidable talk with [Name] while he was at it.  
  
Although he hated to admit it, the possible outcomes of riding home with [Name] did wash him with uncertainty and hesitance. Whenever it came to confronting his neighbor, his composed demeanor melted in an instant and left him fumbling with his fingers. Maybe he was pushing her too much, maybe his chance to help her had already been ruined, maybe she didn't even need help, maybe she was fine. Maybe, maybe, maybe.  
  
But those _maybe's_ floating around his head vanished into thin air as he spotted [Name]'s back at the train station. She stood over the yellow line, two or three steps away from the railway. Her head was held high, her eyes staring off into the distance despite there being nothing of interest to stare at. Her neck was exposed to the chilly afternoon breeze—of course it was, Akaashi had seen her teal scarf hanging on the hook by his door for the past three days. He hadn't returned it to her in hopes she would reach out to him first.  
  
The humming of the approaching train pushed him to hurry up and make his presence known. His small steps overflowed with doubts and reluctance; he had been taught not to cross over the yellow line on the floor. Maybe that was the reason, maybe he simply feared [Name]'s reaction.  
  
Akaashi's eardrums nearly exploded when the honk of the train rang into the sky. He whipped his attention back and forth between [Name] and the incoming train. [Name], standing still over the bright line painted as a warning; the train, only getting menacingly closer by the second. [Name], mindlessly walking forward; the train, fearless and unstoppable.  
  
[Name], standing dangerously close to the edge, one foot dangling above the rails. The train, following only one path and nothing else. Akaashi, watching with twitching fingers and a pit in his stomach.  
  
"[Name]-san!" He received no answer while helplessly watching his neighbor stroll towards her doom. It might have been the shock of witnessing such events transpiring or only his mere cowardice, but his legs refused to budge even one millimeter. "[Name]!" Akaashi shook his head as her name slipped from his mouth once more. He darted forward, arms and fingers stretched, praying to reach just in time.  
  
The train whizzed past, carelessly whipping up the air and making leaves and dust dance in disarray. Akaashi winced when [Name]'s hair stabbed his eye, but still stared into the freezing pupils of a startled deer—at least, that was how [Name] looked like. Furrowed brows, but eyelids separated as much as humanly possible. Skin a hundred tones paler than usual. He could see the poorly hidden bags underneath her eyes and the two glaring bruises she had slapped some make-up on.  
  
[Name] visibly bit her lip, glancing down at Akaashi's fingers still firmly wrapped around her bicep. "You can let go now." Her icy voice pierced him like an arrow, just a second away from giving him frostbite. He nodded his head, apologized with a small bow, and proceeded to motion towards the train.  
  
Some seats were left free, although a very small number of them. [Name] didn't waste another second plopping down close to the doors. She looked away with a scowl as Akaashi sat beside her. He couldn't blame her: there were other seats available and he deliberately chose the one right next to her. Their relationship didn't go beyond an awkward acquaintance, of course she wasn't comfortable with him.  
  
Akaashi could only sigh; dealing with Bokuto was far easier.  
  
 **So small and** fragile, Akaashi wondered if his brain enjoyed playing tricks on him or if [Name] really despised physical contact. He understood she felt far from comfortable around him, but she had managed to shrink down in size considerably. Her knees pointed away from him, legs pressed close together as she clutched onto her bag with both arms. Her head remained downwards while she hid behind her hair.  
  
Akaashi stifled an exasperated sigh. "[Name]-san." His call was met with nothing but silence. He frowned. "[Name]-san." He hesitated before nudging her, gently pushing her shoulder with the tip of his fingers. Her arm fell at the touch. She wasn't trembling and fidgeting nervously or avoiding his eyes to prevent a talk. She just wasn't there on that train with him.  
  
He wanted to be straightforward, he knew better than to beat around the bush, he was certain that his usual bluntness was what [Name] needed. But his words would be based on only assumptions. The noises from his ceiling, the concerning marks on her neck, the events just before they stepped onto the train together, [Name]'s own actions and words. He couldn't link them together; he didn't know or understand a thing about her.  
  
It didn't matter. If there was something he _should_ try to understand before anything else, it was that [Name] was _not_ fine. And he couldn't understand if she didn't help him.  
  
"[Name]-san, are you okay? I don't mean to intrude at all, but I'm worried about you." Straightforward, blunt, directly to the point. No more indirect questions, no more chances for her to dodge said questions.  
  
[Name]'s voice slammed against his ears, that same icy tone nipping at the marrow of his bones. She didn't bother looking up at him. "If you don't mean to intrude, then please _don't_. I've told you not to worry about me, but you still do. I'm sorry…" Her tongue poked out to wet her dry lips, and then she gulped. "You're better off not involving yourself with me. I'm sure you mean good, but don't waste it on me."  
  
"What do you mean?" The way his brows knitted together was involuntary. Her words genuinely caught Akaashi off-guard. A waste? Her? "If there's anything I can help you with, it won't be a waste."  
  
"Akaashi-san."  
  
The cold can kill anything in its path in the blink of an eye. [Name]'s voice became dead, monotone, no longer holding any feelings or sensations to it. Hollow and empty and detached. Akaashi felt a shiver traveling down his spine.  
  
[Name] moved her head towards him to look him in the eye. "Trust me on this one. I appreciate it, but there's no point. Please, just let it be. I don't need help." Those eyes of her, sunken in and exhausted beyond belief, glazed over with unshed tears. Dull irises surrounded unwavering pupils, so sturdy and sharp that she could cut him open if she stared at him any longer.  
  
And much like her voice, they were very cold.  
  
Akaashi opened up his mouth to refute her statements with warming words of reassurance. She was not a bother, she was not a waste; she was his neighbor, and all he wanted was to lend a hand. [Name], however, didn't allow him to utter out even one letter. "Could I ask you a favor, Akaashi-san?"  
  
"Anything." His reply darted out of his mouth without a doubt.  
  
"Don't worry anymore."  
  
The train came to a halt and its doors slid open. Nameless faces poured out to their destination, leaving only two high-school kids sitting alone together. [Name] stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder, and bowed to Akaashi as a goodbye. Akaashi glared dumbfounded at her retreating back. He did say he would do anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that mental health works differently for everyone. this is my own experience, so it's okay to not relate to the mc


	8. Friday 2nd

**The noises never** once bothered stopping; they remained as loud as ever, perhaps even louder. Maybe he should've been blaming his hyper-awareness or the guilt strapped to his back or the impotent feeling of being useless. Whatever it was, Akaashi's ears had sharpened and they picked up the most quiet of irregular breaths coming from [Name].

Half a month dragged on like an endless eon. He hadn't counted the days in fear of finding there was nothing to count. The days never passed, that Wednesday 17th looped over and over again, but the result always ended up being the same. [Name] asked her favor and walked away with teetering steps.

Akaashi wasn't one to lose his cool and get mad, but the lack of options slowly began getting on his nerves, resulting in downright impotence. Of course, he wasn't angry, he was _impotent_. [Name] refused to talk to him and he only stood by without knowing what to do next. Her quiet _Good morning's_ became a mere glance before she wobbled away with her unsteady feet.

Oh, how he wanted to ask. Was she okay? Had she been eating well? She _was_ looking rather pale. Why was she stumbling so much? Well, that wasn't all that new anyway, but her shaky footsteps were becoming much more prominent. He wanted to ask about all of it, yet [Name] would not allow him anywhere near her.

Regardless, he wouldn't be Akaashi if he didn't know how to keep his emotions in check. Volleyball practice came out completely unaffected and his Friday night hangouts with his friends went on as usual. Even if he hated to admit it, he was trying his best to find comfort and distraction among his circles; anything to keep his mind off of his suffering neighbor.

But the thumps and creaks and sobs were always there and Akaashi's ears jumped like those of an alarmed canine. Her heels of lead stomped upstairs in her apartment. He couldn't focus on anything else.

Although his attention stood elsewhere, he sat silently on his couch, watching and waiting patiently as his friends chose the first horror movie of the night.

Kuroo had suggested a _Spooky Movies Marathon_ for that Friday, to which everyone else agreed. The problem arose when deciding what to watch first. Konoha lay _Coraline_ down on the table, triggering Yaku to sneer at him and say that was _not_ a horror movie; Kai sided with Konoha, saying he _never finished it, because it was too scary_ ; Kenma offered _The Human Centipede_ , but was immediately shut down by wails of terror; Kuroo insisted on watching _The Exorcist_ because _Classics are always better_ , and even managed to get the unfocused Akaashi to agree with him.

The argument could last all night if so they wanted, and of course they weren't getting anywhere. It felt easier to grab some popcorn and enjoy a bunch of teenage boys yell at one another, because that was the most entertainment anyone was getting. In the midst of their heated debate and continuous cries of _Fuck you,_ Coraline _made me shit my pants,_ the doorbell rang above their noise.

They all clamped their lips shut, heads swiveling towards the entrance to Akaashi's apartment. With a sigh, Akaashi stood from his couch and unlocked the door, greeting his very tardy guest. Bokuto strolled inside, fists pumping in the air; one holding a plastic bag of snacks, the other a—presumably—horror movie. "Hey, hey, hey!" Akaashi inwardly thanked his boisterous captain for bringing an endless argument to a stop.

While Bokuto proudly slammed a pirated copy of _Monster High: Friday Night Frights_ onto the coffee table, Akaashi's shoulders jolted ever so lightly. His grip tightened around the doorknob as he craned his neck to the ceiling. An echoing blow to [Name]'s floor; a heavy thump he had engraved in his mind; a distant hiccup only Akaashi could hear. Goddammit, [Name] was crying again.

"Akaashi." Bokuto's headache-inducing tone tumbled down a considerable amount of notches as he called for his underclassman. Akaashi lowered his head to meet Bokuto's eyes. He raised a brow in question. "Invite her." Bokuto motioned upwards with a nod. Who knew he could connect the dots so easily?

Akaashi, getting the message his captain was trying to convey, merely sighed. He massaged his temples with his thumb and pointer finger. "No." Even while dealing with an inner turmoil of impotence, he remained as blunt as ever. A click sounded and the door was closed.

"But Akaashi! Why not?! [Name]'s really nice and chill, plus she's clearly on your mind a lot lately, so might as well bring her over." He threw his arm over Akaashi's shoulder and turned with him to the exit. "As your captain, you need my blessings."

"Bokuto-san, it's not like that—"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go call her over!"

Akaashi wanted nothing more than to nail his feet to his marble tiles. "I don't think that's a good—"

"C'mon!" Bokuto snatched a teal scarf from Akaashi's coathanger, dangling it in front of his eyes. He should've returned that scarf long before. "This here's her scarf, right? Bribe her with it."

"Bokuto-san, we can't bribe her if she doesn't want to come."

"Akaashi! Come on! It's a chance to talk to her and make her come."

"No, Bokuto-san, just leave her be."

 **Akaashi hoped and** prayed [Name] could find it in herself to forgive him and his pushy upperclassman. Bokuto danced on his heels after aggressively banging on [Name]'s door, possibly startling her out of her wits. Next to him, internally sighing endlessly and mentally facepalming, Akaashi meticulously built an apology to offer to his neighbor. Him standing there went against everything [Name] had asked of him; don't worry, don't intrude, don't talk—although that one wasn't very explicit—, _don't waste_. How did he even end up at her door again after half a month?

Before he could even suggest giving up and returning to his apartment, his ears picked up the click of the lock. Painfully slow, [Name] opened a small gap to peek through. Akaashi frowned at her glossy eyes and flushed cheeks. [Name], on the other hand, frowned at the unexpected visit—not Akaashi, she probably wasn't surprised he was bothering her again. But _Bokuto_ ; _he_ was completely unexpected. And she had no problem showing her discomfort.

Bokuto inhaled air to let out his intense voice in an introduction, but Akaashi was quicker to shove him aside. He took an unnoticeable step forward, making sure to shield [Name] from Bokuto's loud presence. "Good evening, [Name]-san." He gave her his usual nod, which she reciprocated timidly. "I'm really sorry to bother you, but Bokuto-san here insisted we invited you over for our scary movies marathon."

She glanced behind her neighbor to catch Bokuto's grin. Her eyes locked with Akaashi's for a split second, before she tipped her chin down once more. "Um, thanks, but I'll pass." Her voice, weak and choked. She had been crying, after all.

"We und—"

"Hey, [Name]! The name's Bokuto! Nice to meet you! I'm not in your class, but your notes are great to study from!"

Akaashi knew full well how powerfully deafening Bokuto could be; in and out of the court, when asking for a toss or simply calling him over during lunch. But standing only them three on that hallway, right between the unforgiving cold and the raging heat, Bokuto's voice pierced mercilessly into his eardrums. How Bokuto could talk with all that strain on his throat was beyond him.

[Name] visibly winced and shrunk away from the obstreperous boy. "Likewise, Bokuto-san… Um, I'm sorry to decline, though. I'm just not feeling too well."

"Oh, come on! A movie will cheer you up! Only one, you don't gotta stay all night. _And_ you can take back your scarf. What do you say? Come on, come on!"

[Name]'s eyes flew wide open, brows pulled further down into a contemplating scowl. Akaashi felt his heart sink down to his feet. He had left the scarf behind for a reason, because they were _not_ going to bribe [Name] with it. Bokuto meant good, of course he did, but he was pushy beyond belief. If [Name] could barely handle Akaashi's persistence, then dealing with Bokuto's innocent pushes and shoves would kill her.

Words of panic fell from his mouth before he could stop them. Once again, he blocked his captain from [Name]'s view. "[Name]-san, I'm sorry about him. You can tell us if you don't want to. Bokuto-san is ju—"

"I'll come in for a little while." When her voice refused to shake, originating right from the back of her throat, it struck like lightning and sent shocking shivers down Akaashi's spine. Although, this time around, her words surprised him far more than her stone-like tone. "If you guys give me a second or two, I'll be right down."

Bokuto celebrated with a thundering cheer, fists thrusting into the air. A smile found its way onto Akaashi's lips as he nodded. "Of course, [Name]-san, we'll see you in a few. Let's go, Bokuto-san." He heard her door click shut behind him and sent a grateful glance to his friend and captain. Maybe a friendly push was everything she needed to accept his help.


	9. Friday 2nd

**Akaashi and Bokuto** returned promptly from their quick trip upstairs; one with his usual blinding grin and the other one with a complacent smile he couldn't hold back. The guests, which had been previously setting up the chosen movie, exchanged knowing glances at the sight of his gesture. Although they remained surprisingly quiet, there was plenty of room for teasing; their cute underclassman flipped his mood upside down by just visiting his neighbor. Assumptions were made, none of which they were willing to confirm.

Not too long after the captain–vice-captain duo entered Akaashi's apartment again, a soft knock sounded at the door. Faint, inaudible, nonexistent, as if the person behind it did not want to bother. Which they didn't— _she_ didn't. Akaashi was more than well aware that his friends were incredibly loud and chaotic, making him politely ask them beforehand to stay calm when meeting [Name]. Bokuto had already failed that simple command though, what with hollering out his name in her face and practically pulling her out of the comfort of her apartment.

Akaashi reinforced his favor-slash-warning before opening the door. He smiled welcomingly at [Name], eyes narrowing at the pounds of make-up she had slapped on to hide any marks that would stir up worry. The bruises were nowhere in sight and her usually dark eyebags had vanished underneath the layers upon layers. Her irritated eyes still refused to let go of their reddish tint. She merely glanced at him as she kicked off her shoes and placed them neatly to the side.

"[Name]-san." Heads turned at the sound of informalities. Akaashi made a mental note to reprimand his friends the following morning. [Name] didn't look him in the eye, but settled her attention on him. "I hope you don't mind walking barefoot. They've hoarded all the slippers." He gestured with a nod towards the couch far into the apartment, where everyone else pretended they weren't listening in on Akaashi's words.

Komi—great libero and upperclassman—, however, felt the sting of Akaashi's comment. His shoulders bounced as he rose from his seat and whirled towards the door. "You're missing out! I'm telling you: a slipper inside another slipper is _way_ more comfortable than a single slipper! It's a squared slipper!"

[Name] huffed through her nose, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She pressed her lips together and looked down. "Don't wor—It's fine, I don't mind. Thanks, though."

"Would you like anything to drink? We've got a couple sodas, but I could get you some water if you'd like."

"I'll be fine. I'll tell you if I feel like drinking anything."

"Make yourself at home, [Name]-san. They're tall, but won't hurt a fly."

[Name] nodded, subtly eyed the closed door one last time, and walked into the living room with wobbly steps. Akaashi followed behind her, narrowing his lids at the terrible actors attempting to pretend they were minding their own business. Kuroo stood from the couch, smiling to greet the newcomer.

[Name] instantly jerked backwards. She used that ability of hers—the one where her shoulders rose and her neck disappeared like that of a turtle. Taking an awkward step back, she bumped into Akaashi, who was quick to grasp the sides of her arms to stabilize her.

"Are you okay, [Name]-san?"

[Name] glanced over her shoulder to catch Akaashi's concerned gaze with her quivering eyes. Her brows furrowed as she pulled away from his grip. "Yeah, sorry, I tripped, my bad. Thanks, I'm fine." Her attention returned to the intimidating Kuroo looming over her. She bowed towards him. "I'm sorry about that, uh…"

"Kuroo Tetsurou, nice to meet you."

"Kuroo-san, yeah, nice to meet you, too." [Name] lifted her head and smiled.

Akaashi considered her shoulders loosening a sign of progress; the smile on her face a breath of fresh air; her unwavering voice as she introduced herself a sigh of relief. Maybe starting with the tallest and probably most menacing-looking of his friends wasn't the best idea. Either way, Kuroo seemed to have it under control as he chatted her up with a bit of small talk.

"Guys, listen here." Akaashi called for his friends' attention, despite already having it as they patiently waited for him to introduce the girl next to him. [Name] and Kuroo's conversation died down, both turning to their host. [Name] jumped slightly when Akaashi waved his hand in her general direction. "This is [Surname] [Name]-san, she lives right above me. [Name]-san, these are some of my friends who like to spend more time here than at their own places."

[Name] blinked like a deer caught in headlights. Once her brain finished processing his snarky remark, and the offended groans of Akaashi's friends resounded in her ears, she broke into a grin. Puffing a chuckle and keeping her laughter from spilling, she bowed her upper body politely. "Please, take care of me. Thanks for having me."

Akaashi simply watched on the sidelines as [Name] interacted with everyone in the room. Physical contact seemed to prick her, making her shoulders flinch subtly. It was practically imperceptible, but much like his ears, his eyes were also trained and caught onto the slightest of her discomforts. As much as he wanted to push her to take his helping hand, he understood it took time. She _could_ warm up—as she had done when it was only them two studying at the dining table—, she just cooked up at a low fire. A cold fire, perhaps.

"Okay, [Surname], hear me out." Kuroo's deep voice called her name. Akaashi leaped out of his train of thought to see [Name] comfortably settled between Kuroo and Kai.

[Name] repeated the exact same words she had spoken to Akaashi. Almost as if they were rehearsed; almost like a broken record. "Ah, you can call me [Name], I don't mind. Formalities make me feel uncomfortable."

"Oya? That's bold."

"Is it, really? I have a name, might as well use it."

"No, no, she's low-key got a point." Yaku leaned forwards to join in. He had only four fingers wrapping around a half-empty cup of unbranded soda, so he could use his index to point at [Name].

"Well, then, _[Name]_. Here's the thing. You can choose one, and only one option. Plus, there's only one right answer, mind you." Kuroo made an unnecessary pause to let the tension seep in. "Is it… _yeeted_ or _yote_ , the past tense of yeet?"

[Name]'s brows shot upwards and she pressed her lips together tightly to contain her giggles. She huffed her laughter out her nose. "Neither." Kuroo's trademark smirk morphed into a puzzled stare. [Name] locked eyes with him, a playful smile on her mouth as she clearly pronounced her answer. "It's _yoted_."

Konoha sprang up from his seat with his outstretched fingers in the air. Both Kuroo and Bokuto grumbled in defeat, sinking into the couch while pouting like children. Konoha barreled towards [Name], wearing a grin that yelled he had found his soulmate, and high-fived her with a deafening slap. Much to Akaashi's surprise, instead of shrinking away startled, [Name] reciprocated the celebration and allowed her laughter to flow freely.

A sound completely different from the ones he usually heard. Soft, unlike her choked hiccups; light, unlike her piercing sobs; gentle, unlike her muffled _Good morning's_. He had heard her giggle at her own stupidity, but never quite seen her. The way her shoulders bounced and her whole body vibrated with glee, and how her eyes closed to clear the path for her beam. Before, Akaashi had wondered; now, he wanted to _believe_ that the [Name] he was seeing was the real one.

The one that could crack jokes and mirthfully chuckle surrounded by warm people. If getting dragged out of her apartment was all she needed, then Akaashi was willing to be the hand to pull her.

"Are you guys done with setting up the movie?" Akaashi's fingers hovered above the light switch. He prayed to everything considered holy that they had finally come to an agreement after twenty minutes of arguing.

He received nods and hums of confirmation, switched off the lights, and found himself a spot in his own couch. The movie started with flashes of bright colors and an upbeat tune. [Name]'s snort rang above the music. "Why are we watching _Monster High_? Wasn't this a _Spooky Movies Marathon_?"

"We wanted to start light." The fluffy pillow he was tightly hugging muffled Bokuto's voice.

"Why not _Coraline_? That was one of the options, right?"

"No, no, that was too much."

"I—That's—Wh-what?" [Name] laughed once more and Akaashi couldn't help but glance over to her. He was pleased with the outcome of Bokuto's pushiness; [Name]'s feet were propped up on his coffee table as she leaned back on the couch, amusement danced on her face while trying to understand why _Coraline_ was _too much_. "That's not even a horror movie…?"

"That's exactly what I said!"

"Shut up, Yaku, I'm _this_ close to kicking your shins!"

Faint grunts and slaps of two idiots wrestling with one another made Akaashi sigh. He called their attention, to which they instantly quieted down.

They watched three minutes of a pirated movie in complete silence, intently listening and jamming to the obnoxious music playing loudly. Until Bokuto squeaked. Hugging the pillow closer to his body and burying his face into its fluff, Fukuroudani's ace whined in fear. "Please, turn it off, the gargoyles are creeping me out."

"What the fuck, man? _You_ brought this movie."

"Somebody turn the lights on before I cry."

"Bokuto-san—"

"I'm serious, turn the lights on."

"Bokuto-san, please—"

"Akaashi, turn on the lights, turn them _on_!"

Akaashi grumbled internally, deciding that, after all, _Coraline_ would have been a better choice. He slammed the _pause_ button on the remote control and stomped to the light switch, flicking it on. Much like his bright, yellow lights flooded the room, Kuroo's hyena-like cackles dominated Bokuto's wails of terror. [Name] gasped for air as she pointed at Kuroo, loudly wheezing at his own laughter.

Yes, that was improvement, that was what he wanted. When she didn't cry all alone and didn't hide herself under a thousand layers of clothing. She had come for the scarf, yet stayed for the hilarious shenanigans that brought a smile to her face. If [Name] could freely laugh like that without worries, Akaashi wondered why she isolated herself in her freezing apartment. It didn't matter anyway, because he would be the one to fully pull her into the warmth.

"Oh, man, [Name], are you okay?"

Yaku's concerned voice quieted the laughter down in a split second. Akaashi returned to his spot on the edge of the couch, keeping an eye on the libero as he spoke to [Name]. One of her brows rose, the joyous smile on her face remaining although her giggles had long stopped. "Yeah? Why wouldn't I?"

"No, I mean, your feet."

Everyone's attention immediately darted down to [Name]'s bare feet, carelessly sprawled among empty plastic cups and half-empty bottles on Akaashi's coffee table. "What about them?" Her question held a clueless tone, clearly unaware of the sight everyone else was beholding. Akaashi frowned; he could feel the progress slipping from between his fingers a second time.

[Name] brought her exposed feet closer to her body. Beside her, Kuroo got a front-row view to the abstract art painted on her soles. "Oh, what happened there? You stepped on some—Ow, they're a lot." [Name]'s smile fell faster than anyone could explain, and left behind no trace of ever existing. Her eyes stuck to her injured feet, quivering and trembling and shaking.

Akaashi disappeared into his mind. The dots were slowly starting to connect with one another—some of them, at least, but connecting nonetheless. It took them a painfully long month, but the pieces were finally falling into place.

The shattering glass from that Friday long ago and the penetrating crunching sound that followed. Early morning on Monday, as he watched her wobble away with clenched fists. Even the last couple of days, when she strolled past him with her unsteady feet. Now, both sitting on his couch, he could effortlessly trace his eyes upon every single cut on her skin. Some long, some short; some had already faded, and some glowed bright red; some mere surface cuts, _most_ concerningly deep.

If she was in pain with countless slashes on her feet, then why would she ask him not to worry? What had she really been doing? Of all possibilities, there was one that swirled in his brain and bounced around the confines of his mind. Akaashi didn't want to believe it. He dearly hoped he was mistaken. But the dots connected perfectly and the puzzle pieces clicked together seamlessly.

The breaking glass and its deafening crunching—had [Name] done those deliberately? Had she smashed some glass into pieces and then walked on it like it was a silk carpet? Had [Name] _actually_ walked on glass and never said a thing?

Back to square one, he went. Was the [Name] that hurt herself the real one? Or was it the one that snorted loudly at Bokuto's stupidity? Or maybe the reserved girl that trembled on the spot behind her teal scarf? Or perhaps even _all_ of them were real. Akaashi realized how he didn't know anything about his neighbor, after all.

[Name]'s forced chuckle slapped him back to reality. "Oh, no, it's nothing really. I even forgot I had these." She laughed once more, rising from her seat and wincing when her feet touched the ground. "I better leave, though. It's getting late. Thanks for having me."

The last thing the boys heard was the click of Akaashi's lock. They looked over, only to see no signs of [Name]. The door was closed and her scarf had disappeared from the coathanger.


	10. Saturday 10th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning!  
> theres an anxiety attack ahead, based on my own experience. take care!

**Composed, collected, level-headed,** rational, patient, polite: words that described Akaashi down to his every atom. Human, too—human fit right in the same category. And much like every human, Akaashi knew when and where to draw the line.

To put things simply, he was fed-up. Volleyball practice had only gotten more intense—what with nationals looming closer—, and [Name]'s cut-up feet occupied every single corner of his brain. Multiply one by the other, and Akaashi's patience was wearing thin.

He had waited, and he had given her space, and he had _tried_ again and again to help her. But she refused any help. As much as he wanted, he would never be able to understand some things. One of them being why [Name] was so _fucking_ adamant on slapping his helping hand away. It didn't make any sense, whichever way he tried to see it

It wasn't pride, it wasn't hubris, it wasn't like she would get in trouble for hanging out with him—she lived completely on her own, and didn't leave her apartment for anything other than school or grocery-shopping. It was _her_. [Name] was a problem to herself. [Name] didn't allow herself to break free from the merciless cold.

After a week of tiring afternoon and morning practice, and [Name]'s constant fidgeting as she left for school, Akaashi decided to put his foot down. If he had to poke his nose where it didn't belong just to get [Name] talking, then so be it. If he had to piss her off, annoy her, or even break her door down, then _so be it_. He didn't want any of her dodging his questions anymore.

Composed, collected, level-headed, rational, et cetera. Standing at [Name]'s doorstep, he might as well have called himself demanding and forceful. But he was getting his answers one way or another.

He knocked right below the number-plate with a little more force than intended. "[Name]-san? It's me, Akaashi. Are you there?" Announcing his name or not meant nothing—she didn't ever have any guests anyway, so he was the only idiot that would call for her in the middle of the night.

A restless minute passed before [Name] finally opened the door. Her appearance presented no surprises: jacket zipped-up to her chin, that teal scarf made out of wool, darkening bags under her irritated red eyes, sickly pale skin. He could have gone on, but he hadn't visited her to insult her. Despite his desire to jump straight into questioning, he bit his tongue and offered her a smile. [Name] averted her eyes to the floor in response. She remained silent, knowing full well Akaashi could do all the talking.

"I'm here to talk to you, [Name]-san. Hope you don't mind, but I needed to check up on you. Neighbors should look out for each other."

"Akaashi-san—" A sigh fell from her lips and her head dropped. Although it didn't shake, her voice barely held any volume. "…I told you not to worry about me."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You've got cut-up feet and I'd like to know why. I understand I'm being too forward and shouldn't be pushing you to answer my questions, but I'm caring about you. Let's talk."

"You don't know anything, Akaashi-san. You don't understand."

"That's what I'm here for. Explain it to me so that I understand. Just like you explained quadratics. You did that just fine."

"You already knew quadratics. That was pointless. I only wasted your time."

"Then why did you stay?"

[Name] bit her lip, her knuckles progressively turning white around the doorknob. Her silence seemed endless.

"Could I come in, [Name]-san? Let's do the talking inside."

"No!" Both his and her eyes flew wide open; one in shock, and one in panic. [Name] bit her lower lip, shoulders raised and scrunched inwards. "I'm sorry. Just… Please, don't."

"Well, then. I won't pry on that yet. Let's head down to my apartment then. We'll talk over a cup of tea, if you'd like."

Akaashi awaited no confirmations and promptly turned on his heels. [Name]'s fretting voice halted him. "Hold on, wait a sec! I need to, um, do something first."

"No need." He locked eyes with her over his shoulder, catching her confused furrowed brows. "If you're planning on throwing some make-up on, don't bother. It'll be only us two, yeah? Come on." He gestured towards the elevator with a nod, and headed off. Behind him, [Name] sighed heavily before closing her door. Her faint footsteps told him she was following.

 **Akaashi had no** idea a person could be so stubborn—and he dealt with childish people like Bokuto on a daily basis. She didn't accept tea or coffee or even a simple glass of water. She refused with every inch of her body to take a seat. She absolutely did _not_ let him take her scarf and jacket. Akaashi was patient, but every person has a limit.

"[Name]-san, we'll be talking for a while, _please_ , take a seat. It's already warm in here, so it's better if you take off at least your scarf. I'll go make some tea for the both of us. You can hang your stuff by the door."

He walked back into the room with two cups of green tea, quite pleased to see [Name] sitting quietly on the edge of his couch. Her scarf and jacket had been discarded and hung on the coat-hanger. She flinched when he lay her cup on the coffee table in front of her. She glared at it while Akaashi settled beside her.

"I sure hope you like green tea. I also added a bit of sugar."

[Name] hesitated before reaching for her cup. She sipped the beverage, swallowed, and then set it back down. "It's okay, doesn't matter. You shouldn't have bothered, though. I should just go."

"No, [Name]-san, take it easy. Tell me what's going on, please. I want to help you."

"I'm telling you not to get involved, Akaashi-san."

"Too late. You're already on my couch, and I think I've heard enough." His eyes shifted to her bare feet. He was surprised to see them wrapped in bandages. "At least I know I've _seen_ enough."

[Name] caught onto his implication and pressed her feet to the base of the couch in an attempt to hide them. Her fists balled around the fabric of her sweatpants, her face hid behind strands of hair. "…Please…" Her voice broke with only one word, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. "Please, don't do this… It'll be harder for you in the end… Let's not do this…"

A lonely droplet fell on the back of her hand, slowly trailing down her forearm until it fell to the cushions. It disappeared into the fabric, leaving behind no trace of ever existing. But they continued one after the other, falling and falling and falling endlessly. On her skin and on her clothes and on his couch, as she gritted her teeth and sniffled in silence. She kept her face away from his field of vision, but her shoulders trembled and he understood she was crying.

A sigh fell from his lips. "[Name]-san, listen. I won't force explanations out of you, but just know that I'm worried about you. You're a really nice person, and it's fun to hang out with you, and honestly, I just want to help you. But I need to understand what's going on first."

"…I'm not nice, though…" [Name] sniffed, running her arm across her brimming eyes. "…I'm not nice at all… Look at me, I'm making you worry and I dragged you into all of this and saying _I'm sorry_ isn't enough."

"What's so wrong about worrying? You're always saying that—to not worry, I mean."

"It's pointless. You're just wasting your time and effort. It's all pointless at the end of the day. Why would you worry about someone that'll—Someone that—Uh—"

"Someone that will _what_? What will you do? You can tell me."

"No, no, I can't. I'm talking too much and only dragging you deeper, I'm sorry."

"Well, drag me deeper."

"God, Akaashi-san, you don't know me. Stop this. Stop it, just stop it. It's pointless, just stop. You don't get it. You're too warm for this. You don't get it. You don't. You don't get it, stop it."

"[Name]-san—"

"Stop. Just stop. Stop this, just stop it. You don't—You can't—You _won't_ understand. Just stop. Please, stop it. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Just stop. Stop it. Stop." [Name]'s fingers snaked around her scalp, sliding between her hair and grasping at fistfuls. Her body bent forwards, chin touching her knees. Her fists only grew tighter by the second.

Akaashi almost immediately slammed his teacup on the coffee table and pushed the furniture away to open some space. He dropped to his knees right next to [Name], hearing her nonsense mumbling and heavy breathing. "[Name]-san, it's okay, I'm here. Take it easy, you're fine. Breathe in and breathe out. Slowly. Give me your hands." With trembling hands and sweaty palms, Akaashi struggled to unlatch [Name]'s chilling fingers from around her hair. He succeeded, fortunately, and intertwined hers with his warm ones. "Let go, [Name]-san, relax. Follow me, yeah? In and out, in and out. Yeah, like that. You're fine, I'm here."

Akaashi took deep breaths, held them in, and calmly released them; [Name] followed him, trembling eyes locked onto his. Eventually, she managed to get the hang of it and her breathing returned to normal. She had recomposed herself. And as soon as she processed reality, she pried her hands away from Akaashi's. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I-I… Fuck, I told you…! I told you not to do this…! I tried to warn you…"

Akaashi blinked, flabbergasted. "Warn me…? [Name]-san, having these episodes is nothing bad. I'm actually very impressed that you handle them on your own. It must take a lot of courage and strength."

"No! I made them myself. It's my fault that they happen. I just—I—it's my fault."

"[Name]-san, please, stop refusing my help. You've shown me enough. Now I want to help you."

"But you can't! You shouldn't! You should just let me go, Akaashi-san. Just leave it be. It's all pointless. Let me go back upstairs and forget this ever happened. What do I have to do so that you'll understand?"

"Answer my questions."

[Name] groaned. Her palms slapped against her face as she growled into them.

"What happened to your feet?"

"…I cut them when I stepped on some glass…"

"Did you break the glass yourself?"

"…Yes…"

"Why?"

"You're not my therapist."

"Do you _have_ a therapist?"

"…No…"

"Then I can be one for tonight. What happened to your neck?"

"Ah, shit, you saw that…"

"[Name]-san, tell me what's happening. Tell me what's going on inside your head."

[Name] pulled away from her hands, craning her bruised neck to pierce Akaashi's eyes with her own. He felt a shiver traveling down his spine. "I don't want this…" Her words morphed into a sigh. "There's nothing to it."

Much like her fingers and her eyes, her voice was deadly cold. It was the voice of a tired person crying for help. And Akaashi was willing to do exactly that. "Let me help you, then."

"…Alright… I prefer black tea, without sugar."

"On it."


	11. Sunday 11th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning!  
> some mental health talk. references to suicide and self-harm. take care!

**T** **he ripples on** her black tea reflected a deformed image of her tired face. [Name] glared at it with narrowed eyes, her mind running a mile a minute as she replayed Akaashi's words in her mind. He wanted to help, she _knew_ he wanted to help. A polite young man, worried sick about his neighbor because she couldn't control her own brain. Every time, she would lose herself for mere minutes, only to come back to a new disaster sprawled across her marble tiles.

How could she explain, when she didn't understand it herself? Maybe she did understand, but she preferred not to. Would Akaashi understand, though? Yes, he was smart and capable, but that didn't mean he held the capacity to comprehend someone as cold as her. Like she had babbled, he was too warm, and she was too freezing.

Things backfired in the end. All those dismissing words she had tried to sell him ended up making everything worse. _Don't worry,_ she had repeated over and over, and Akaashi caught onto her repetition, becoming much more worried in turn.

[Name] gave it her all. [Name] did her best. [Name] fought against Akaashi's persistence and came out a loser. Now, she sat on his warm couch, drinking warm tea, and having the warmest person she'd ever met sitting right beside her.

If he wanted to know, then she would tell. If he wanted to help, then she would pretend. It was out of her hands. It was over.

"Where do I start?"

"Wherever you feel comfortable. Maybe your bruises…?"

"Ah." [Name] traced her purple bruises with the tip of her fingers—those same fingers that had caused them. "That Tuesday when you came to check on me at night, remember?" Akaashi hummed. "It was just that. In the blur of the moment, before I knew it, my hands were around my own neck."

"Do you always hurt yourself when those happen?"

"Yeah… I guess… I just need to feel something—know I'm still me, I'm in my body."

"There's a word for that… Dissociate, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds right. I don't know much. I never cared enough. I just let it happen. It's annoying, but it always ends."

"You've never asked for help?"

"To whom?" [Name] lifted her eyes from her reflection to look at Akaashi. He was a really good listener. She laughed, "…You're gonna make me miss this… You're really warm, you know?"

"What's that about?"

"The warm thing?" Akaashi nodded. "I live by it. There are warm people, like you, who're always there to help, and who deserve to live and _enjoy_ living. Then there are cold people, like me, who just exist, who shouldn't hope."

"You don't hope?"

"I don't. I used to. But it's pointless now."

"You're pretty nihilistic."

A chuckle slipped from her lips. "You can tell? Yeah, I guess I am."

"Where are your parents?"

[Name] paused, eyes narrowing. Parents. Her parents. "…Abroad."

"Is that a lie?" Of course it was.

"No, they really are abroad."

"Do they know about these episodes you have?"

"No, I never told them. I don't want to bother. They're busy people."

"But can't you turn to them? You need help, don't you think?"

"Do I…? I don't agree. What's the point?"

"For you to get better. Don't you want to be part of the warm ones?"

[Name] laughed, "Oh, no, no! I could never. If you're born in the cold, you remain in the cold. You, Akaashi-san, are used to the warmth, but for someone like me, it burns _too_ hot. Just look at the sun; when gazed from afar, it feels so welcoming and warm. So then you get too close, and it's nothing but a roaring ball of flames, blazing endlessly."

"That's such a sad outlook on life, though."

"Sounded too much like a depressed poet, didn't it?"

"Sounded beautiful. But don't you want more?"

"I… don't. No, not really. I don't care anymore. I've come to terms with it. Next question, let's move on."

"Why do you jump so much?"

"Why do I what, sorry?"

"You flinch a lot, you're really jumpy."

"Oh, that." A laugh. "I guess I'm just scared? Scared people will find out and start asking questions. _Are you alright?_ , _What happened to you?_ , _Did you hurt yourself?_ , and so on." She glanced at Akaashi and then hid her face in her cup. "Well, that didn't work out anyway."

"But you stay. When we were studying, and the other night with the guys. You stayed."

"Yeah, I did. You're so warm that you make me forget. It's so nice to be here, _living_. Your couch is so comfortable and your friends are hilarious. I never thought I'd see someone get scared of _Monster High_."

They laughed together. In his own room, Bokuto sneezed.

"It's all so nice that I forget what I'm supposed to do."

"What _are_ you supposed to do, then?"

"Can you guess? How're those eighteen braincells working?"

"Don't change the subject. If you aren't supposed to live and enjoy living, then what?"

"Take a guess, you're smart."

"Die?"

[Name] threw her head back and glued her gaze to the ceiling. She inhaled and exhaled deeply. "I guess… I like the phrase _Live and let live_ a lot. In this case, it's more _Let live and die_."

"[Name]-san—"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to kill myself, that'd trouble a lot of people. I'm just waiting for it to happen."

"So last month, at the train station, you didn't try to kill yourself?"

"I don't recall."

"I pulled you away from the railways. You were right about to fall."

"You said it yourself, dissociation. Maybe I was just tripping like I always do."

"This is serious, [Name]-san." He stared into her eyes, brows furrowed in a frown.

"I'm _being_ serious. I really don't recall." Lies and lies and more lies. They stuck to her tongue and scorched her lips.

"I don't want that happening again."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll help you. Let's be friends. We'll exchange phone numbers so we're always in touch, and if you need anything, I'm always downstairs. Lean on me."

"Akaashi-san, I rea—"

"Keiji."

[Name]'s brows shot upwards in shock. "Pardon?"

"Call me Keiji." [Name] blinked once and gawked like a fish. "Listen, [Name]-san, I might have to take this to the authorities."

"Wait, wait, no! Who are _you_ to do that?! It's _my_ life, I do what I want with it. I don't even owe you any explanations."

"Then let's make a deal."

"Wipe that smug look off your face, _Keiji-san_."

"Hear me out. If you let me help you, I'll take you into the warmth little by little."

"No."

"I'll have to bring this up to the school then."

"You can't do that."

"I will if I have to."

"You don't need to."

"I _want_ to."

[Name] groaned. "Fine…! Okay, fine, you win…! You can walk me to school, and we can study together, and we'll finish _Monster High_ if you want to. Just, let's keep this between us."

"I think we've got ourselves a deal."

He offered her his hand, which she reluctantly grasped and shook. His gentle hold enveloped her algid skin in a pleasant warmth. She felt the tug of Akaashi trying to pull away, but she gripped him tightly. The wonderful warmth she knew better than to soak in, yet she couldn't help herself. Oh, she was but a fool. And like a fool she bawled, pressing her forehead against his welcoming heat.

"It's okay, [Name]-san, cry all you want. I'll help you, I promise."

It wasn't okay. [Name] gravitated towards silent screams and hushed sobs, always keeping in mind the fact that showing weakness was not an option. She wondered how long it had been since she last made a sound when crying. Her hiccups, her sniffles, her huffs; they resonated loud and clear. She could afford to be weak one last time. Feeling Akaashi's palm comfortably patting her shoulder, she shed every last one of her tears until her head pounded.

The cold was watching, and it waited patiently for her to fall back into its merciless claws.


	12. Sunday 11th

**A pestering ray** of sunlight leaked through the small gap between the curtains, hitting [Name] right in the eyes. Her brows furrowed in discomfort as she squirmed lazily to move away from the light burning her lids. She used her hand to shield herself until sleep dragged her into unconsciousness once more. How annoying the morning sun could be—that was the sole reason she never pulled up her blinds.

Of course, her blinds, which she never pulled up, because the morning sun was terribly annoying, and she didn't want to deal with another problem. Her blinds, which usually did a great job at keeping the natural sunlight out of her apartment. Usually.

This was _not_ her apartment.

Realization sank in and slapped her across the face in less than a millisecond. [Name] sprang into a sitting position, eyes shooting wide open as they darted around her surroundings. A fuzzy blanket slid down from her torso, exposing her bare arms to the chilling air—No, the air was warm. It was kissing her skin and hugging her with the gentle feeling of a loving mother's touch.

"Good morning, [Name]-san. Would you like some coffee?"

[Name] flinched at the unexpected sound of a detached voice. Her shoulders scrunched upwards as she whipped her head towards her neighbor, eyebrows knitted together and eyes wide. Akaashi; it was _just_ Akaashi.

Her muscles relaxed once her memory came back. After Akaashi's forceful interrogatory and [Name]'s spilling some truths shadowed by lies, he decided to establish a friendship. A friendship she knew she shouldn't have accepted, since it went against everything she believed in. But she shook his hand anyway and bawled her eyes out until her headache knocked her out cold.

[Name] blew out a sigh, a timid smile upturning her lips. "Without sugar, please."

In the back of her mind, she heard her own voice scoffing at her for not following her ideals. Loud and clear, it growled at her relentlessly for troubling even more people, for veering out of her lane and gleefully jumping into the arms of a warm person.

What a mistake she knew she was making. Becoming Akaashi's friend, giving him a glimpse into her mind, staying over for the night, and now he was in his kitchen preparing a cup of coffee for her. He listened to her each and every word, and even offered solutions she had thought of yet knew better than to turn to. He heard her ramble about the most cynical and nihilistic corners of her mentality, those not even past friends had asked about. She would miss that.

Such a strong mentality it was. Dividing the world into two, as it was usually done. The warm ones and the cold ones. Indeed, a strong mentality; simply a weak mind which couldn't follow it.

[Name]'s intelligence landed on average—whether above or below it, didn't matter. At the end of the day, nothing mattered. But even with an average level of smartness, [Name] knew about human desire and self-restraint.

She hated to admit it, but she absolutely _loved_ the warmth. The way it wrapped around her and kindly held her, whispering a soothing lullaby in her ear to help her have sweet dreams, knowing that when she woke up, it would still be there to greet her with a gentle grin. [Name] had experienced the warmth many times in the past, but as wonderful as it might have felt, she always came out with a nasty burn. Even if she was completely infatuated with the soft embrace of warmth and yearned to reach for it, she knew better than to give in to her desires.

She had stopped hoping, for a reason. She had stopped wanting, for a reason. She had stopped longing, for a reason. She had stopped listening to her most basic of desires, just so that they would never get the chance to escalate. If she didn't desire, self-restraint would be easier.

But then Akaashi waited for her by the gate one fateful Monday morning, and the moment she shook his hand as he introduced himself, the warmth she had been missing for years tickled her fingertips and spread onto the rest of her body in the blink of an eye. The desire she had repressed with all her might popped back to the surface as if her efforts had not once existed.

"Come on, [Name]-san, let's have breakfast at the table. I made some toast, too. Jam or butter?"

[Name] was well aware that if she stayed long enough, eventually Akaashi would burn her as it had happened multiple times before. But she was also just as thankful of how soft and quiet his flame was. He didn't glow as bright as the sun she feared so much. His warmth had always been gentle. She didn't deserve it, but her self-restraint had long disappeared.

There was no need for her to return to the cold yet. Although she didn't wish or hope or long, she chose to stay underneath Akaashi's sunshine. It didn't fit anywhere in her mentality; to enjoy what she had tried so hard to stay away from—for her sake as much as for other's. So she made some space for it. That voice in her head barking at her had been rendered useless by the comforting scent of coffee wafting through the air.

[Name] rose from the couch, wincing slightly as she planted her feet on the ground. The cuts remained splitting her, hiding beneath white bandages. That didn't matter—not now, at least.

With an unashamed smile, she settled across from Akaashi on his small dinner table. "Butter's fine."

"Not one for sweets, are you?"

"That's a talk for another day."

Maybe that other day would never arrive. No, not _maybe_ —she _knew_ it would never arrive, for her decision had been made before she became a high-schooler. Even before that, when she chose Fukuroudani Academy over any other school. Long before that, perhaps, as soon as she signed the papers for her apartment. It could have been there ever since she was born for all she knew. It didn't matter.

But even if her decision remained unchanged and she did not waver, that wasn't to say she couldn't breathe in the warmth one last time. She wouldn't get burned and she wouldn't have to miss it.

Yes, that was right; Akaashi would never burn her.

A selfish thought she had avoided for so long. [Name] hated it. She hadn't wanted to involve anyone with her, fearing the outcome would hurt. Because the warmth and the cold are not that different.

The cold can burn as much as the heat can. And even if she didn't get burned, Akaashi surely would.


	13. Sunday 11th

**"I really can't** tell if I haven't had coffee in a while or you're just pretty damn good at this." [Name] held her steaming cup with both hands, sniffing the nostalgic scent of cheap powdered coffee. A smile adorned her face as she took yet another sip.

Akaashi couldn't help but mirror her expression. He had succeeded, at last. [Name] stepped out of her shell once and for all thanks to his helping hand. Questions no longer bounced around his head aimlessly; he finally knew which [Name] was the real one. The nihilistic, nonchalant, witty girl with a knack for terrible puns and unexpected one-liners. Maybe they could become great friends, after all, it didn't feel like a stretch anymore.

But, of course, the process took far longer than he was patient enough to wait for. She may have lied, she may have not. They hadn't talked much, anyway. He was sure there were some truths among everything she had told him, he just had a hard time distinguishing them from the thousands of lies she had thrown in the mix.

He only had one option—keep her talking and put the pieces together, one by one.

"How long _has_ it been?"

[Name] blew a raspberry. "I dunno. First year, maybe? Before that? I can't tell, to be honest."

"Why that long?"

"Nothing against coffee, I've just been living off of water since I moved here. Capitalism's rough, man."

"That's a lie."

[Name] rose a brow, and then chuckled. "You got me." She set her cup down with a soft knock. "I don't believe in self-indulgence."

"Of all things, I didn't expect to hear that. You don't drink coffee just because it tastes good?"

"Woah, you're making me sound like an idiot. Not to say you're wrong, I'm one hell of a dumbass. But it goes beyond that."

"Expand."

"Are you ignoring that I called myself idiotic?"

"We'll get into that later. Don't change the subject."

"Well. To put it simply, I don't believe in much, I guess. Fate, love, life, or anything else that they play on the radio. Fulfilling my desires falls in the same category. I only need water, some basic food, and a roof."

"And love."

"Get off my case, Socrates."

Akaashi held in his laughter. "The books they made me read so far said love is a basic need—I mean, desire, in this context."

"Well, don't go getting philosophic on me. I don't believe in philosophy either."

"Do you believe in anything at all?"

"Science, probably."

"Isn't philosophy a science?"

"Not as far as I'm concerned. And I'm not too concerned, to be honest."

"So you only believe in math?"

"Oh, okay, math isn't technically a science. Hm, let me rephrase myself. I believe in science _and_ math, and that's as far as I'll take this topic."

"I'd like to hear more about that, though. Your mentalities are so different from anything I've ever heard. You know there _is_ more, but you don't take it."

"Woah, okay, call me out to my face." This time Akaashi let his laughter spill. [Name] joined him. "The thing is nothing matters, to be honest. You'll die, I'll die, and whatever we do will be reduced to nothing. Some dudes are out there working their asses off, and what for?"

"Self-realization."

"No, man, it's all for nothing. We're all the same at the end of the day; we only take our name to the grave."

"I think I said this before, but that's a really sad outlook."

"I personally like to call it _realistic_ , but sure. Whatever floats your boat."

"But if you don't believe in self-indulgence, why are you drinking coffee, chatting with me?"

[Name] snorted. "Well, first off, you probably wouldn't let me out of here until you got more answers from me."

"[Name]-san, that's not wh—"

"Don't sweat it." She offered him a smile, her head shaking gently. "Neighbors should look out for each other."

"Now you're quoting me."

"Those were some wise words, Aristotle."

"You do know your philosophers, though."

"I've read. Anyway, where were we?"

Akaashi smiled. The look on her face told him she had genuinely lost track of the conversation. "Your indulgence on the coffee."

"Oh, that, yeah! Uh, so yeah… As well-founded as my mentality is, I'm kinda weak, I guess. I couldn't help myself."

"You're really vague."

"I hate explaining my brain."

"I'm interested."

[Name] rolled her eyes, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. " _This_ is nice. Your apartment is so pristine, and it smells amazing, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Your couch is hella comfortable, the bitterness of coffee tastes great, and your company's enjoyable. I know I shouldn't want these things, but I think I can push my mentality aside for a bit."

"How long?"

"If I put a deadline on my freedom, I'll feel it weighing on me. Just a bit. Long enough so that I won't regret anything."

"Why would you regret?"

"Ah, sorry, can't go there. Next question, please."

"This isn't an interrogatory, [Name]-san."

"Hey, I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid."

"Fine, let's go into that, then. You keep calling yourself dumb and such. You seem plenty smart to me."

"I'm book-smart, I guess. I'm pretty good at that. Give me a textbook, tell me what to read and understand, and I'll spit out anything you want me to. Math, biology, physics; I get those because they make sense. But anything out of textbooks, I've got no clue about."

"You can't be smart in every field, [Name]-san. I know a lot of people that stick to social sciences because they're easier to understand than natural sciences. Oh, and math, apparently."

"Social sciences aren't real science."

Akaashi blinked. Damn, she was good. "You're changing the subject again."

"Ah, you got me again, Akaashi-san."

" _Keiji_."

"Don't bother, that's not gonna happen."

"Fair enough, _[Surname]-san_."

"Okay, message received. Keiji-san it is."

"Why don't you like your last name?"

"Wait, no, it's not that I don't like it. I don't like _using_ it, 'cause I feel I'm not living up to it."

"Expand, please."

[Name] groaned. "This again?"

"I'm getting my answers one way or another."

"You're biting off more than you can chew, though. It's gonna hurt you more than me."

"What will?"

"Hm, moving on." She took a swig of her coffee. Akaashi waited for her to start talking again. "My parents are nice people, and they did their best raising me. It's just that somewhere along the way the sky fell hard on me and I went into the wrong lane."

"The sky fell hard on you?"

"Some realizations and the like. I said I don't believe in life and all that, simply because it's all one trade-off after the other. You never win, but you never lose either."

"You talk as if you've been through something terrible."

"No, not at all. My life was always pretty calm. Nice parents, a nice older brother, a roof, food on my plate every dinner, some pets to play with."

"Then what made you think like this? Like nothing matters?"

"Uh, great question." She giggled to herself, racking her brain for answers. Akaashi stared intently at her. [Name] averted her eyes to her cup. "I guess my life was so normal that my brain decided to make it interesting. I read books and all these philosophers you like so much—"

"I don't."

"—And came up with my own conclusions. Living is nice, the thing is it's pointless."

"Sounds sad." [Name] shrugged. "Let's move on. The red mark on your neck?"

"Ah, shit, you can see that one still?" Her hands reached to cover her neck on instinct.

"No, I saw it when you came over to study."

"Of course you did. I won't talk about it, though."

"Then the cuts on your feet. How long have they been there?"

"Uh, a month?"

Akaashi blinked, brows rising. "A month should be enough to heal."

"Jokes on you, Aka—"

"Keiji."

" _Keiji-san_. There're a lot of them and my poor nutrition can't handle it."

"Have you been eating well?"

"Um, no?"

"When was the last time you had a proper meal?"

"Oh, brother, not this."

"[Name]-san." [Name] locked eyes with him at the stern call of her name. Akaashi held a scowl on his face. "When did you last eat something?"

"Uh, on Thursday I had some noodles."

"And Friday? Saturday?"

"…No, nothing…"

"Why?"

"I forgot…?"

"You're staying over for lunch and dinner today."

"It's no biggie. I'll die anyway. One meal less, one meal more."

"You're too nonchalant about your own health. How can you joke like that?"

"No comment."

Akaashi sighed. "Did you at least disinfect your cuts?" [Name]'s silence was enough of a reply. Akaashi stood from his seat and headed for his bathroom.

"Keiji-san…?"

After rummaging through his drawers and cabinets, Akaashi found exactly what he wanted. A plastic bottle of rubbing alcohol and an unopened bag of cotton. As soon as [Name] recognized the items in his grasp, her eyes progressively widened into a look of panic.

Akaashi motioned towards his couch. "Take off your bandages."

"I fear."

"Come on, [Name]-san, neighbors should look out for each other."

"Please, don't smile at me like that."

Albeit reluctantly, [Name] stumbled over to Akaashi's couch and plopped down on the fuzzy blanket he had lent her for the night. Her fingers twitched uncertain as she fiddled with the white cloths wrapping her feet. She let them drop onto the floor, finding they remained unstained despite coming into contact with her old yet fresh cuts. Akaashi felt his neighbor's glare as he soaked a misshapen cotton ball in alcohol. [Name] grimaced in anticipation.

Akaashi patted his lap with his free hand, the other one holding onto the cotton. "The faster we do this, the less we'll suffer."

"Now you're quoting _me_."

"Come on." [Name]'s hesitation spread across her face in pursed lips and bent eyebrows. Akaashi sighed and snatched her ankle, lifting it from the floor and settling it atop his thighs. "This'll burn a little." He shot her a smile begging for forgiveness.

"Oh, I'm well aware."

With swift and short taps, he pressed the alcohol to the sole of [Name]'s foot. [Name] sucked air through her teeth and cursed in pain. Her eyes screwed shut as she clenched her fists, throwing her head back and exhaling heavily. "Just a second, [Name]-san." [Name] attempted a hum of confirmation, but it was quickly cut off by another hiss.

Akaashi finished his job by re-wrapping the practically unused bandages, and then moved on to the other foot. He frowned at the sight. The cuts held a rich red color, clearly much deeper than the ones he had finished disinfecting. They seemed larger, too. He wasted not another second in running the cotton ball down her sole.

[Name] bit her lip and clicked her tongue. "Oh, I'm really close to kicking you."

"I'll be done soon, give me a second."

He tightly pressed the cotton against the largest and most concerning of slashes. [Name] yanked her leg away from his grasp in one quick motion. "Okay, I'm tapping out, I can't." She blew short puffs of air onto the irritated skin.

"Let me wrap it, at least."

"God, you're far more persistent than anyone I've ever met."

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

"I can't tell, to be honest."

"There. All done." Akaashi finished fastening the cloth and set her foot back on the ground.

"Thanks."

"It's nothing."

"No, really, thanks. There could've still been some glass in there for all I knew."

"And you've been walking with those for a month already?"

"Uh, yeah…? I managed."

"So when I talked to you on Monday, you were stumbling around because they hurt."

"Well, actually…" [Name] laughed, a nervous smile spread across her lips as she averted her eyes. "I kind of had a hard time when I saw you standing at the gates, so I was sorta dizzy."

"Why's that?"

"Uh, I may or may have not figured you were probably there waiting for me. Which, as it turns out, you were, in fact, waiting for me."

"You knew…? How? Did you know me back then?"

"So, fun fact, I saw you when you moved in. You had the Fukuroudani uniform, so I thought avoiding you would be for the best."

"Avoiding me?"

[Name] groaned and hid her face behind her palms. "I didn't want you getting involved with me, as I've told you. So when I found out you were right below me _and_ we attended the same school, I decided to avoid you. I, um, I analyzed your morning routine to, uh, leave for school later than you."

"Oh."

"Yeah… So, anyway. Anything else you wanna know…?"

"Why were you so insistent on me not getting involved with you?"

"…Sorry, man, I can't answer that one. I really, _really_ want to go through with that part, so I can't say."

"I understand. But from now on, remember that I'm always downstairs for you."

"Sure, dude, thanks a bunch." And she presented her closed fist, which he bumped with his own, both wearing identical smiles.


	14. Thursday 15th

**Monday morning,** after an unexpectedly positive weekend, Akaashi's chest filled with success to its limit once his eyes locked with [Name]'s. Her teal scarf wrapped comfortably around her neck, hiding bruises that nobody else needed to know about. She used one of her fingers to pull the wool below her chin, exposing her upturned lips as she offered her usual _Good morning_.

Side by side, they walked together to the station, rode together on the train, and entered the school premises together, only parting ways to reach their respective classrooms. Exactly everything Akaashi had been trying to achieve since their first formal encounter. How could he not bask in the feeling of accomplishment her relaxed shoulders brought? [Name] had finally chosen to open up and lean on him.

Once class ended and students could call it a day, after tiring morning practice and her advanced school lessons, they met up by the gates to head home together. The progress Akaashi had—almost physically—felt slipping right between his fingers at last became tangible. He could grasp it, hold it tightly, keep it cupped in his hands as he admired it. And it talked to him with [Name]'s voice; it told him to pat his own back, for he had done well.

Tuesday and Wednesday remained the same. They worked together to set things straight. Slowly but surely, [Name] was getting the help she needed, and Akaashi no longer stood on the sidelines. She didn't flinch anymore, she didn't shy away, she looked him confidently in the eye when having a conversation. When he handed her an extra lunchbox he had made, she accepted it with a childlike frown on her lips, but no complaints.

 **Thursday rolled around** and the elevator doors slid open to reveal the reception lobby. Akaashi sent his usual greeting glance to the old man behind the counter, only to find him busy with somebody else. [Name] leaned on the furniture as they chatted.

He approached the talking pair with a smile. "Good morning."

"Ah, Akaashi-kun, good morning."

"Good morning, Keiji-san. Are we good to go?" [Name] mirrored his smile. Akaashi replied with a small nod. [Name] turned back to the receptionist, pushing her body off the counter and bowing. "Have a good day, sir."

"You too, kids, take care."

Akaashi bowed politely to the man—whose name he really needed to get for once—and followed behind [Name]. She was already half-way through the brick path when he caught up with her. "You got up earlier than usual."

"Observant." They shared a laugh. "But not really. I got up at the same time, just that I usually stall. I didn't feel like making you wait today."

"I don't mind. I waited for you for forty minutes once."

"That's a joke, right?"

"I'm very patient."

"No kidding." [Name] clicked her tongue. "Man, you're making me feel bad."

Akaashi chuckled. "Forty minutes aren't much when I deal with Bokuto-san daily."

"Poor guy, give him a break. He can't be _that_ bad."

"No comment."

[Name] couldn't help the cackles falling from her lips. Her eyes squinted and her shoulders bounced as her warm laughter morphed into white steam. Their conversation took no time in drifting into different topics, ranging from how Bokuto looked like a horned owl to why noise seemed louder at night. It had only been four days since they started walking together, but Akaashi had found out [Name] stored an impressive amount of random information in her brain.

As they sat on the busy train, only a few minutes away from their destination, [Name] dropped one of the facts he still wishes he hadn't heard. Their chat had been centered mostly on owls, and how in English a group of owls was called a parliament. [Name] then went on to explain the digestive system of these wonderful birds. But soon her mind lost complete focus and changed directions, her face lighting up as she recalled her best fun fact.

"Oh, yeah!" She turned her torso towards him, a considerably large—compared to the ones he'd seen—grin spreading across her mouth. "Kinda like frogs, but not really. You know, since frogs can't throw up, they just sort of, uh, throw up their entire stomach, and then u—"

"Wait, I'll stop you right there."

[Name] fell silent in an instant. Her lips pursed as she tried to contain her laughter. She blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry, I didn't—" Her giggles cut her sentence off. "I didn't realize you wouldn't handle it. I was about to show you pictures, too." Akaashi glared at her playfully, watching her laugh at his weak stomach.

 **The train halted** and opened its doors while [Name] rambled on about owl cannibalism. The school building of Fukuroudani Academy came into view a couple blocks away. Akaashi instantly remembered a crucial piece of information. He glanced at [Name] by his side, who had run out of interesting facts after explaining the toxicity of owl parents. On her lips sat the ghost of a smile, only visible if one looked for it hard enough.

"What is it?" Akaashi blinked at her unexpected question. [Name] craned her neck to make eye contact. "You have something to say, don't you?"

"How do you know?"

"You've been staring at me. Plus, you aren't asking why I think barn owls are terrifying."

"Why's that?"

[Name] hummed. "Don't change the subject. What's up?"

"Nothing, really. I've been meaning to tell you I have afternoon practice today. You don't mind walking back on your own, do you?"

"Nah, it's cool. But, uh, practice?"

Akaashi arched a brow. After listening to every last corner of her thoughts, he finally realized [Name] knew nothing about him. He wondered just how many questions he had thrown at her without giving her a chance to retaliate.

"I'm in the volleyball club."

[Name]'s eyes flew wide open. "We have a volley club?" Her tone; clueless and disorientated.

"Yeah, we've qualified for nationals early next year, so practice's gotten a lot more heavy."

"Holy shit." [Name] whispered her amazement under her breath. Then, her voice rose once more in a high pitch. "Nationals?! Are you kidding?! Man, that's sick! So I assume you're the captain, right? I mean, _come on_."

"The captain slot is saved for third-years. I'm vice-captain though, which with Bokuto-san as captain, it's the same thing. I guess next year's my turn."

"Wait, hang on, I'm—You're telling me you're not a third-year?"

Akaashi attempted to stifle his laughter, but her flabbergasted frown was beyond hilarious. He used his fist to conceal his chuckles. "I'm a second-year, [Name]-san. You didn't know that?"

"No? I just thought that you hanging out with Bokuto—Wait, then, how do you know Shirofuku-san?"

"She's our manager."

"She's your _what_? Wait, don't laugh, I'm serious, I had no idea."

Despite her protests, Akaashi couldn't help but laugh at how unaware she was of her surroundings. Albeit sheepishly, she joined him with quiet laughter of her own. "So for three years you didn't know we had a volleyball club?"

"I'm not the most interested in clubs."

"How about you drop by during practice? I'm sure they won't mind, you can watch us play."

"Oh." She blinked blankly at the offer. "Uh, no, thanks, I'll pass. Maybe some other time."

"I'll hold that to you."

[Name] forced out a nervous giggle, eyes traveling off to the open gates of their school. "Please, don't." As they stepped foot into the campus, their morning walk together came to an end. [Name] paused to bid her farewell.

Akaashi beat her to it. With an amused smile on his lips, he sent a nod to his upperclassman. "See you tomorrow, then, [Name]-san."

"Yeah, see you. Good luck with practice, Keiji-san."


	15. Saturday 24th

**Faint chewing sounds,** the common clatter of tableware, and the occasional knock of wood as [Name] set her glass down once again. The gentle smiles she had worn throughout the week seemed to have vanished into thin air, replaced by a frigid straight line. Her eyes had apparently become a thousand times heavier, always pointing down and only lifting when she ran out of water to drink.

[Name] poured the last portion of water into her glass, set the empty bottle back on the table, and swiftly gulped down every last drop. Akaashi watched her play with the glassware absentmindedly, staring at her untouched meal through the distortion of the crystal. He swallowed the food in his mouth and placed down his chopsticks. He stared at the way her fingers remained separated from one another, how only the tips pressed firmly against the glass, and the dried blood atop forming bruises on her knuckles. She didn't try hiding it.

Akaashi huffed through his nose. He debated between speaking up or giving [Name] that space she so much liked to enclose herself in. The only sound in the room became their breathing—mostly [Name]'s as she took in deep breaths and exhaled them in short sighs. Akaashi stood from his seat, keeping his eyes stuck to his neighbor, expecting the smallest of reactions at the screeching scrape of his chair on the floor. [Name] didn't even flinch.

He grabbed the empty water bottle and promptly left to his kitchen to find a replacement. His mind traveled to the previous night's events while he shoved the bottle under the open tap. Over the obnoxious cacophony of his friends yelling along to meme songs, his trained ears had picked up the ruckus transpiring right above his head. Not a week had passed, yet [Name]'s heels became as heavy as lead once more, digging sharply into her tiles whilst she conducted an orchestra of bangs and thumps.

He had shot her a concerned text message, and the words she had typed back as a response still floated around in his head, bumping into every last corner. _No worries. I'll tell tomorrow. Have fun._ Of course, her reply came in three separate message bubbles, written solely in hiragana. He had learned [Name] didn't bother with kanji when texting.

Akaashi jumped back into reality when he felt the icy tap water trickling down his hand. He closed the faucet, put away the bottle in his fridge, and pulled out an exact replica, only this one contained fresh water ready to drink. He returned to [Name], seeing she had remained immobile during his short trip to the kitchen. The glass bottle knocked against the wood of his dining table when he set it down.

[Name]'s eyes spared a seemingly uninterested glance at the bottle slowly covering itself up with condensation. She exhaled heavily before leaving her empty glass next to her plate. "So?" She held her chin tipped down, finding entertainment in her food gone cold. Her voice slammed against Akaashi's ears, quiet but heavy.

From across the table, Akaashi raised a brow at her unexpected, monosyllable question. He hadn't had the chance to pick up his chopsticks and resume his eating. "So what?"

[Name] allowed the silence to consume her. Akaashi settled for staring until she elaborated. "…I'm waiting."

"Waiting for what, [Name]-san?"

More than anything, Akaashi wanted to help her, and he knew it would be impossible without communication. Whatever rattled her brain, she had to articulate it and say it out loud. [Name] raised her head, finding his eyes with her sharp pupils. Or at least it seemed like that, because Akaashi understood that glazed-over look in her eyes meant she wasn't staring into him, but _past_ him.

Akaashi allowed the corner of his lips to upturn. Maybe voicing all of her thoughts wasn't actually needed after all. He could understand her just fine by glimpsing at her exhausted irises. "Alright, fine. [Name]-san, tell me what happened." He had forgotten about his unfinished food, opting to set his full attention on [Name]. Underneath the table, his long fingers fought against each other.

[Name]'s head remained raised, although her eyes were quick to travel down and to the side. She sighed. "I… heard…" Her pauses held doubt and uncertainty; she hadn't organized her thoughts and her head was a disaster. "I heard… Bokuto-san's famous _Hey, hey, hey_." Her pitch wobbled upwards—a weak attempt at imitating Bokuto's cheerfulness.

"And?"

"And I… I, uh… I had this strange… strange _ly_ powerful urge to invite myself over." [Name] breathed in and exhaled heavily.

"Why didn't you? You know you're always welcome here."

"I almost did. Hell, I even got to the elevator." She stopped briefly, lips pursed. Her voice became a low whisper, dripping with distaste. "But then I caught myself."

"You shouldn't have. Bokuto-san would've been ecstatic to see you. And everyone else as well, probably. Konoha-san actually suggested inviting you."

"No, I did fine staying." Her unchanging expression and posture didn't give him enough lines to read. Lidded eyes cast down and loose shoulders, a straight line on her pale lips. "It's already messing with me enough." Her shoulders rose as she inhaled, and then returned to their looseness when she sighed.

"What is?"

[Name] hummed. This time, her eyes stared into his. He could see the tiredness and uneasiness swirling around her colored irises. "Involving you in this. Throwing away everything I believed in just 'cause you're a nice guy. Sitting here and having lunch with you."

Akaashi heard the exhaustion enveloping her sentences. She was very tired. His fingers danced on his lap. He wanted to reach out and grab her, but her hands found more comfort in her empty glass of water. "You can still believe in what you choose, [Name]-san. There's nothing wrong with trying out new things, though."

"It just… doesn't fit anywhere in my plans. So I'm not involving anyone else. One person is enough. One person is _much_ more than I wanted." Her trembling fingers tightened dangerously around her glass. She snarled her last sentence through slightly gritted teeth.

Akaashi didn't hesitate to stretch out his arm and grasp her wrist. [Name] froze. Slowly, she returned her glass to the table. Akaashi didn't let go. "Tell me about the noises."

[Name]'s lips twitched, unsure, hesitant. "I… punched the wall and… started throwing stuff around…"

Akaashi remembered the dried blood and forming bruises glowing brightly on the back of her hand. He looked down at her dominant hand; blue-black skin and dots of darkened crimson hiding cuts underneath. His hand unclasped from around her wrist. "Can I nurse those for you?" He was done with his questioning. If it didn't help her, then it was useless.

"Sure… Sorry…"

"Don't be." Akaashi stood from his seat, keeping an attentive eye on her head hanging low. He found odd amusement in her downcast expression and slumped shoulders. It reminded him of his captain. He stifled a chuckle at the thought. "[Name]-san, how about we finish watching _Monster High_? Bokuto-san left the copy here and doesn't want to take it back."

At the memory of that Friday night, [Name] burst into quiet giggles, shoulders bouncing. Her shoulders that flinched when startled, shivered when crying, and loosened when tired. Now they vibrated as she laughed. Akaashi smiled warmly at the refreshing sight.

She looked up at him from her chair, eyes clouded with exhaustion, yet no longer heavy. "Yeah, that'd be nice. Sorry for not eating much… _Eating_ , sorry for not eating." She rose to her feet as well, reaching for her untouched, cold food before Akaashi stopped her.

"Again, don't be. I'll clean this up and get the first-aid kit."

"Yeah, but at le—"

"Could you set up the movie?"

"Sure, but let m—"

"I'll make some tea, too. Black tea, right?"

"Keiji-san, just le—"

"I also have some wildberry tea Kozume brought. Would you like to try that?"

[Name] sighed, puffing a chuckle as she rolled her eyes. "Black tea is fine. Without sugar, please."

"Of course, I'll be right back."


	16. Wednesday 5th

**Rare were the** nights the knocks fell upon Akaashi's door. Ever since he first introduced himself to his neighbor, he would always be the one to knock on _her_ door. Be it to check on her, to question her, or to drag her out of that unforgiving, freezing, bottomless pit [Name] called her apartment—her home. Whichever reason he had, the one standing on the other side of the door was always Akaashi.

He had walked to open it wondering in his head who could be calling for him on a Wednesday night. His friends? Not likely. His family? Too late for that. A neighbor? That didn't make any sense. In his tired evening brain, [Name] did not classify as a neighbor. Which could explain the unhinged jaw and perplexed blinking he greeted [Name], indeed a neighbor, with.

He had grown used to that unspoken custom he and [Name] had developed in their relationship. But when [Name] decided to unexpectedly break it, he found himself enjoying the satisfying feeling of a pleasant surprise.

She stood at his threshold, covering half of her smile with her teal scarf, and holding a white plastic bag in her dominant hand. Her cheeks and nose were painted with a faint red tint, indirectly whispering to him [Name] had been outside.

"[Name]-san? What brings you here?"

"Hey, Keiji-san, uh… How do I…? Um…" As Akaashi cocked a questioning brow at her fumbling for words, [Name] cleared her throat. "Konoha-san told me it was your birthday today? I really hope he didn't lie, otherwise I'll just die tonight instead." Her last sentence shot out of her mouth in a swift mumble, eyes traveling to the side.

Akaashi chuckled. She was just nervous, of course. The flush on her skin seemed to deepen at the sound of his laughter. "It _is_ my birthday today, don't worry."

"Oh." [Name] blinked her doubts away, the embarrassment in her cheeks dissipating. She offered him an apologetic smile. "Sorry for not saying anything until now."

"No, it's fine, you didn't know."

"Yeah, I guess, but still. I thought I'd take the opportunity to thank you properly. You know, for nursing my wounds and everything else."

"Ah, you shouldn't have bothered." He spouted words of courtesy on instinct, only realizing too late how much [Name] hated them. The warm gesture on her lips flattened out. She glared at him with a raised brow and narrowed eyes. "Come on in." His hand traveled up to rub his neck under the intensity of her unamused eyes. He moved to the side to allow her entrance.

"I asked Bokuto-san for your favorite food and failed miserably," she giggled to herself while placing her shoes by the door. "So I went to Konoha-san again and tried making what he told me. Still, I brought store-bought onigiri just in case." 

After disposing of her winter clothing, she turned to Akaashi with a smile as she lifted the grocery bag in the air. From inside the bag [Name] revealed a sealed box of onigiri as promised, and a see-through container.

"Thanks a lot, [Name]-san."

Akaashi was quick to get a pair of bowls, glasses, and chopsticks. While [Name] set the table to look presentable, Akaashi brought two bottles of tea to match their dinner. Black tea for her, green tea for him. Soon, they were seated on their respective chairs, bowls filled with rich green rape blossoms.

"Really, the onigiri would've been just fine."

"Come on, I'm here to thank you for being a great dude. Just take it."

"Well, remind me your birthday so I can pay you back for all this."

[Name] laughed. "No, you won't need to do that. Shall we eat, then?" She clasped her hands together in thanks.

Akaashi mirrored her actions. She had avoided yet another one of his questions. With an amused smile, he offered his gratitude for the food. "Let's dig in."

He knew he was eating on his own, feeling the weight of [Name]'s attentive eyes pressing down on him. He took a bite and savored the flavor of his meal of choice. [Name] watched as he swallowed.

He hummed. "Mediocre at best." His voice was stern.

"Don't be mean!" Although her lips twisted into a frown, the laughter spilled from her mouth and made her shoulders bounce. She took a bite of her own inhbetween giggles. "It's better than I expected. I know it's usually a Spring food, but I may not be around by then."

"Ah, right, you're graduating." [Name] hummed. "That's fine. The season doesn't matter when this is really good. Great job, [Name]-san."

"Happy birthday, Keiji-san." Her smile spoke to Akaashi more than [Name] ever did. It brimmed with warmth and satisfaction, and that fulfilling feeling praise brought. Akaashi noticed how it matched the spark in her eyes.


	17. Monday 17th

**The joy Akaashi** and his friends brought her could be considered a guilty pleasure. After years of chastising herself and slapping her own wrist to stay on track, letting her very persistent neighbor pull the strings allowed her to breathe in fresh air. [Name] knew better—she always did. However, she also knew that some things simply were out of her hands and she couldn't control every aspect of her life, even if she had wanted to.

It would hurt in the end. She knew that. She had made it a clear point when it all started to remind herself and engrave it in her brain. If she stayed away, if she let herself be left behind, if she kept the spotlight as far away from her as possible, no one would get hurt. Then Akaashi came around, and the temptation was far stronger than her self-restraint. Much like adopting a new puppy after suffering the death of a previous old dog; the new puppy grows into another old dog that will eventually pass away as well. The cycle repeats. It _always_ hurts in the end.

But who was to say she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted? Make the most out of it. Have fun. Bask in the warmth and breathe it all in one last time.

What she had called _Throwing away everything she believed in_ , Akaashi had insisted was a change in mentality. After giving it much thought, she concluded both of them were wrong. It wasn't a change, nor was it a sign of giving up. It was a door [Name] had locked tightly; a door Akaashi managed to kick down in a matter of forty days.

Almost everything came pouring out. Her passion, her tastes, her likes and dislikes, her desires, her ability to enjoy the sweet, sweet warmth. And there was no reason to hold them back anymore—not that Akaashi would let her, anyway.

 **It visibly surprised** Akaashi when she accepted his offer to watch the boys' volleyball practice. [Name] had caught up to him on his way to the gym and informed him she wanted to tag along. Akaashi blinked bemused, eyes owlish and brows pushed into his forehead. She didn't know what reaction she had expected, but her cackles spilled out before she could stop them. He echoed her laughter with a small smile spreading on his mouth. 

[Name] followed Akaashi into the school's surprisingly enormous gymnasium. Being her first time visiting the gym since enrolling at Fukuroudani Academy, she couldn't help but gawk at how incredibly spacious it had been built. Upon stepping foot into the building, she caught sight of Washio and Komi setting up the net while the rest of the team warmed up. As she admired the atmosphere of professionalism in a mere high-school volley club, Fukuroudani's captain whipped his attention to the door.

His precious underclassman setter had shown up fashionably late and he couldn't wait to pester him about it. But then his eyes fell on [Name], standing half-hidden behind Akaashi, scanning the entirety of the gym and whispering words of awe. A toothy grin pulled at the corner of his lips, and he forgot all about his warm-ups as he sprang up from the floor. In a split second, Bokuto was already barreling towards [Name] like a wild beast, arms stretched above his head. "Hey, hey, hey! [Name], hey!"

[Name]'s gaze snapped down to Bokuto, only to find him shoving his palms in her face for her to high-five. She jerked back on instinct. Bokuto was a handful, and she'd heard every single complaint about him to ever exist come from Akaashi's mouth. Loud and boisterous, yet simply a friendly boy [Name] would've loved to meet under different circumstances. Despite her neighbor's words, she could never bring herself to resist the gleaming in the captain's eyes. Akaashi didn't lie when he said Bokuto would be ecstatic to see her.

Chuckling at his childlike excitement, [Name] slapped her palms against Bokuto's to entertain him. "Good to see you, Bokuto-san."

"Hey, everyone! Hey, guys, look! [Name] came to watch us!" Before she could react, Bokuto had dropped his arm around her shoulders and began dragging her towards his team. Behind her, she could hear Akaashi's exasperated sigh as he politely asked Bokuto to let her go.

"Oh, [Name]!"

"[Name]-san, hey!"

"Ah, [Surname], hello."

From every boy she had been introduced to came a welcoming greeting. Left and right, [Name] heard her name being called and saw nods of acknowledgement. For once, she had wiped every last bit of coldness from her mind, allowing space for Fukuroudani's warmth to seep in and consume her. Even while Bokuto kept her trapped in his iron grip and Akaashi tirelessly begged him to not suffocate [Name], her brain was too busy overwhelmed with pure mirth to break free from the captain.

Konoha popped into view seemingly out of nowhere. He grabbed onto her arm and tugged her out of Bokuto's grasp, much to Akaashi's relief. With only one word, he managed to make her burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles as she stumbled forwards. "Yeet." He wore a lopsided smirk and spoke with a nonchalant voice.

"Yoted." Never had it crossed her mind that inside jokes would become a thing in her life. But as she laughed alongside the Jack of All Trades, and heard Fukuroudani's captain whine like a kid, she couldn't care less and instead welcomed the change.

Akaashi blew out another exasperated sigh after hearing his coach scolding the rumbustious team. He approached [Name], still cackling with squinted eyes and bouncing shoulders. She excused herself from Konoha when Akaashi called her attention. "You can sit over there on the benches or you can head up to the bleachers. Whichever you're comfortable with."

"Ah, can I stay with your manager? You said Shirofuku-san was your manager, right?"

"Yes, along with Suzumeda-san. They usually watch on the benches."

"Oh, no way, Suzumeda-san, too? Cool then, I'll stay with them. Good luck with practice, Keiji-san."

They exchanged nods of confirmation before promptly turning on their heels. Akaashi walked over to his teammates to finish warming up, while [Name] shuffled towards the bench to plop down next to her two classmates, still chuckling to herself. She offered the girls a polite smile. When she stopped to give it some thought, she realized she didn't know anything about her classmates; the only information she had gathered came from how frequently they depended on her class notes, but beyond that, [Name] had never even formally talked to them outside of class.

"Nice to see you, [Surname]-chan." That was Suzumeda Kaori, who seemed to never pay attention during economy, and always ended up asking [Name] to take a picture of what she had written down.

"Good afternoon, Suzumeda-san, Shirofuku-san."

A hum sounded from behind her. Craning her neck, [Name] was met with Shirofuku Yukie's critter-like smile. That same smile that approached her after chemistry, because her handwriting was too messy and she couldn't make out what her loose sheets of paper said. "Didn't know you were a cradle-robber, [Surname]-chan." Her eyebrows danced as her smile morphed into a teasing smirk.

[Name] snorted, holding in her quiet giggles. The mere suggestion of dating Akaashi sounded incredibly absurd. "It's really not like that. He offered a while back I stayed and waited until after practice so we could walk home together. And I really have nothing better to do."

"Oh?" Suzumeda leaned closer to her, lips imitating her friend's expression. "So you walk home together now?"

"Neighbors should look out for each other, he says."

"Really now?" Shirofuku lifted a brow. "And you're saying you're not interested? I think you look cute together."

[Name] blinked while staring blankly at the two managers. Her and Akaashi? Together? The amused chuckles escaped from her before she could catch them. "Thanks, Shirofuku-san, but I'm honest—"

"Shirofuku-san, could you please not make [Name]-san uncomfortable? We're fine as friends."

"Oh, what's this? First name basis, huh?"

For the umpteenth time that afternoon, Akaashi exhaled a hefty sigh of exasperation. "Suzumeda-san, _please_." He hid his mumble behind his yellow water bottle. Of all things, he hadn't expected his managers to be the ones to put [Name] on the spot. His money had been on Bokuto, or maybe even Komi, but it ended up being the two other girls in the team.

And then [Name] laughed. "I know, he insisted a lot on that one. Right, Keiji-san?"

Half of his soul flew out of his body in yet another aggravated sigh. But the other half stayed to appreciate how far [Name] had come. It was a miracle she had accepted his offer to watch practice, and it was an even greater miracle to see her cackling in glee at his expense. Akaashi smiled to himself, watching as [Name] snickered to herself alongside his two managers. The deafening whistle of his coach blew loudly behind him and he knew there would be nothing to worry about.

 **If asked to** list off her interests, the last thing [Name] would think of was sports. Volleyball was, as a matter of fact, a sport. A sport which [Name] had obviously heard about—living alone didn't equal living under a rock—, but still had little to no idea about. Hell, if it hadn't been for her impromptu visit to the boys' club, she would have died assuming volleyball didn't even have any rules.

But it did. It had countless rules, an important position for every player, and a frightening amount of slamming an innocent ball onto the other side of the court. As a nihilist and a rational person, not many things could scare [Name]. Ghosts and urban legends were just that: made-up stories, much like horror movies; spiders, snakes, and any other poisonous animal was harmless unless threatened, and she had no reason to threaten an armless creature; _Coraline_ was _startling_ , not scary; clowns were a topic way too stupid to dive in. The list could go on, but so could people's strange fears.

However, some things could, in fact, make [Name] jump and shrink into herself for protection. Her newest addition to that short list was Fukuroudani's Boys' Volleyball Club's members, most standing close to six feet, and leaping to heights she never thought possible. While watching them practice and taking in the basics of the sport that Shirofuku and Suzumeda were explaining to her, [Name] realized how terrifying it was to see tall, muscular high-schoolers float in the air and blast—or spike, as Shirofuku had called it—a ball into oblivion.

[Name] stared intently, trying to follow the volleyball as the boys bumped it around at incredible speeds. It soon fell into Akaashi's hand—who she had learned was a setter and probably the most important player. Calling for his upperclassman, Akaashi tossed to Bokuto, whose feet left the floor in an instant while a toothy grin spread across his face. Practically floating in mid-air, Bokuto's hand met the ball and sent it darting like an arrow to the opposite corner of the court. The ear-splitting sound of his spike echoed through the gym, sending unexpected shivers down [Name]'s spine.

"And that was a cross shot."

"Holy shit…"

Bokuto threw his arms in the air, and celebrated at the top of his voice. "Hey, hey, hey!" He bumped his chest with Sarukui's and attempted to exchange a high-five with Akaashi. As he failed to get a reaction out of his setter, he whipped towards the benches, eyes glimmering brightly. "Hey, [Name], did you see that?! Did you?! Did you see that cross shot I just did?! Did you, did you?!"

[Name] blinked, still gawking like an awestruck fish. Her lips wobbled into an apologetic smile. "I'd like to say I did, but that was too fast to see. Man, that could've knocked my soul right out of my body."

Bokuto cackled, arms akimbo and chest puffed out in pride. "Hey, hey, hey! That's the power of an ace! Come on, guys, one more!"

Her meek words of encouragement didn't reach the captain as he was too busy celebrating his point. She was still blinking stunned when her eyes met with Akaashi's. He sent her a nod and mouthed a _thanks_ , to which she replied with a nod of her own, albeit unsure. Practice resumed, the boys returning to hitting the ball to the air only to slam it down once more.

[Name] leaned towards the two girls sitting beside her, lowering her voice to a whisper in case anyone heard her—and by anyone, she worried about Bokuto. "Hey, uh, what's an ace…?"

Shirofuku and Suzumeda stared at her as if she had grown an extra head. Suzumeda was the first to laugh, soon followed by Shirofuku. "Okay, yeah, let's talk aces now." And the managers began explaining the concept of an ace. [Name] found herself smiling and listening closely, despite not caring if she understood or not. She had forgotten about it, but having fun felt nice.


	18. Thursday 27th

**The train whistled** to a stop, jerking forwards only a few millimeters, but enough to make its passengers sway in their seats. Bokuto's lively chatter didn't bother ceasing, seemingly spouting words even out of his elbows. Holding in her laughter, [Name] turned away from the endearing ace—a word she became really fond of—, who had been fascinated by her owl facts and babbled question after question. Her eyes settled on Akaashi quietly sitting on her other side. Although he wasn't scowling and his face was free of creases, his narrowed lids as he glared at Bokuto spoke for themselves.

[Name] snorted when he sighed with an amount of exasperation she didn't know existed. "Bokuto-san." Akaashi's monotone voice flowed out of his mouth enveloped in politeness and good manners, yet the look in his eyes betrayed him and gave him away. Had they been alone, a crime would have been committed. Bokuto clamped his mouth shut at the call of his name. "This is your stop, Bokuto-san."

"You're right!" Bokuto sprang up from his seat, a gasp of realization slipping from his lips. He turned towards his underclassman with a blinding grin. "Get her home safe, yeah, Akaashi? I'm trusting you. You too, [Name], get him home safe, will you?" He didn't await any replies, promptly swiveling on his heels to squeeze out of the train's closing doors. "I'll see you next practice! Bye!" Through the square windows, [Name] reciprocated Bokuto's enthusiastic wave with a smile and a small wave of her own.

"Glad to see he's cheered up." As the train left the station, and Bokuto disappeared among the sea of people returning home, [Name]'s attention went back to Akaashi. She tried to stifle her chuckles as best as she could, but she had never seen a high-schooler's face convey such exhaustion. "Does that _emo mode_ thing happen often?"

Akaashi sighed again, grumbling incoherently under his breath. "Don't even get me started. He's too unpredictable."

"I feel like our roles have switched." [Name] laughed to herself. Akaashi cocked a tired brow at her words. "You wanna talk about this over a cup of tea? You look like you're ready to shatter your skull on a light switch."

"Oddly specific, but I just might."

"Please, don't. It's not _that_ bad anyway, right? I don't feel he'd do that at really important events."

"Bold confidence for someone that's wrong." [Name] was rendered speechless, only being able to produce perplexed giggles. "There's no difference between a practice match or nationals. He can and _will_ go emo."

"Oh, nationals! Shirofuku-san sent me a video of the qualifiers. Against Kuroo-san's team, I think, the red team?"

Akaashi visibly cringed. "Nekoma High School, yeah."

"Ah, Nekoma's the name? That's cute."

"So? What did you think?" He knew full well how that match had gone down. The memory alone urged him to knock himself out until graduation.

"What's with that face? You're awfully expressive today."

"Bokuto-san's—"

"—a handful, yeah. So I've heard. But you have fun anyway, don't you? It looked like it, at least."

"Of course I do. It's actually very satisfying to see the team work like it does."

"Right? I didn't get much what was going on, but it was amazing. I had no idea our school was a powerhouse. We even have cheerleaders."

"Though at this point they're there to keep Bokuto-san pumped up."

[Name] laughed and slapped his arm playfully. "Poor soul, give him a break. You're real stingy, aren't you?" She received a piercing glower through narrowed eyes. Her hands raised in mock innocence. "But hey! Maybe next time I'll be on the stands to sing that stupidly catchy cheer." She bit her tongue as soon as the words left her mouth. It was hard to tell if she was only imagining the taste of blood. Quietly, she chanted her school's name and clapped her hands.

Akaashi's expression softened as he allowed a light chuckle to escape him. "I'll save you a seat during nationals."

[Name] felt her body being set aflame. An unexpected hyper-awareness of Akaashi's warmth slapped her across the face. Her smile wavered, getting coated with uncertainty and hesitation. She forced a cough out of her throat. "Hey, I said _maybe_. Don't take my word for it."

"Your _maybe's_ sound more like a _yes_ at this point."

"Maybe."

Akaashi's laughter resonated in her head, seeming distant and out of reach even when he sat right beside her. [Name] struggled to keep the smile nailed to her lips. She regretted lying to his face; he deserved better than that. Her _maybe's_ didn't sound like a _yes_ at all—they were empty promises she would never fulfill.

It was the first time a _maybe_ she knew wasn't bound to come stung her deeply. A _maybe_ pronounced with her voice was nothing more than a lie. But Akaashi could never understand that and [Name] could never explain it. She would have to apologize later.


	19. Tuesday 1st

**Eight o'clock in** the morning was too early to have someone carelessly bang on [Name]'s door, especially during Winter break. At the startling sound of a fist pounding against her front door, [Name] jolted awake on her chair. She groggily lifted her head from her desk, rubbing her eyes and wondering when she had dozed off. Her neck popped as she stretched it to rid it from its soreness.

She groaned and grumbled curses to herself while blindly stumbling to address whoever had interrupted her rare sleep. It turned out to be her favorite—such a foreign adjective—pair of owls; one dancing and vibrating on the spot, the other one staring at her disheveled appearance with narrowed eyes.

[Name] greeted them both with a polite nod, letting their names fall from her lips without honorifics, lost and warped in a yawn. She would have apologized, but the dense cloud of tiredness looming over her brain didn't allow her to focus completely.

"Hey, hey, hey! [Name]!"

Next to the enthusiastic ace, Akaashi's sigh dripped with satiety. "Bokuto-san, please, quiet down." As Bokuto silenced himself with a whispered apology, Akaashi scanned [Name] from her bedhead to her bare feet—a smile found its way to his face when he saw no bandages; she was healing. "Sorry to bother you so early, [Name]-san. Bokuto-san insisted we invited you to a shrine visit."

A shrine visit? The last time she had willingly left her home to spout empty prayers to deities that likely did not exist was— _when_ was it?

"You'll come, right, [Name]?" Ah, there he went again, shining brightly with those gleaming eyes of his and the excitement of a puppy being offered a treat. Weirdly enough, Bokuto never felt as warm as Akaashi did. Yes, he shone way so much brighter, but as loud as his flame was, it didn't compete with Akaashi's. [Name] wondered why. "You will, won't you? Right? Come on, it's our last chance!"

"Bokuto-san, please, don't pressure her."

"Ah, sorry! But you'll come, right? Akaashi, tell her you also want her to come."

 _Last chance_ —how deeply it stung her.

Had it been two months earlier, she wouldn't have hesitated to turn them down in an instant. Had it been two months earlier, [Name] _knew_ for a fact that missing out on a _last chance_ wouldn't have hurt her one bit. Had it been two months earlier, she would have been shying away and hissing at the terrific warmth those two radiated. But it wasn't two months earlier; it was right that moment, and she loved it as much as she loathed it.

It was a moment that she had never even _dared_ to spare a thought to. A moment she had never bothered to believe would come because it was useless. A moment where the same words strewn together rang with a different tune in her ears than they did in Bokuto's.

He was right: it _was_ their last chance. And she wanted to take it and make the memory for them. It would hurt in the end, of course it would, but being selfish always came with a price.

[Name] pasted a drowsy smile on her lips, stifling another yawn that threatened to slip out. She raised her dominant hand to rub her eyes. "It's okay, I'll tag along, no need to beg, you two. Let me fix myself up a bit and I'll meet you downstairs."

"Come on, you look fine like that. Let's go, it's gonna get late!"

Bokuto's hand shot towards [Name], ready to snatch her arm and drag her like a rag doll. Akaashi was quicker; his fingers looped around his captain's wrist before he could touch her. "Bokuto-san, please, let her get ready. We'll wait for her downstairs."

"But Akaashi…"

[Name] chuckled. "I'll see you guys in a few, yeah? I'll be right down."

Albeit reluctantly, Bokuto agreed to her terms and headed for the elevator after freeing himself from Akaashi's grasp. [Name] had turned to close her door and make herself look presentable, but her neighbor had yet to leave.

She looked at him over her shoulder, raised brows and curious eyes. "Everything okay there, Keiji-san?" She blinked at his silence.

Akaashi's gaze darted down to her hands, blocked from his sight as they hid behind the door. Although neither of the three had acknowledged it, it was there, and it sent his mind racing. "Were you up all night, [Name]-san?"

[Name]'s face morphed into a questioning frown, lips pursed. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about that, _dad_. What, I'm gonna get a curfew now? Be in bed by ten or something?" She laughed, light-hearted, carefree.

Akaashi didn't. He held his unwavering glower on the girl in front of him. "What were you doing?"

"Does it matter?" [Name] blew a raspberry, huffing through her nose. "Seriously, am I getting grounded or…?" Laughter bubbled in her throat and spilled out again, eyes squinting ever-so-slightly.

Akaashi stared her down without emotion. Even as she looked straight into his eyes she couldn't read him. She was joking around, trying to elicit a simple chuckle from him, _anything_. But he refused to put any bit of expression in his face. "I heard a lot of tapping on the floor—my ceiling."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you could hear that."

"I'm used to it by now." She couldn't help the way her eyes enlarged, taken aback by his abrupt sentence. "Were you writing?"

Her mouth shaped into a circle, her smile vanishing in a split second, as if it had never been there. "How'd you know?"

"You still have your pen in your hand."

"Ah." Despite knowing he couldn't see her hand through the wooden door, [Name] hid it behind her back.

"What were you writing?"

"I was catching up on school work."

Finally, Akaashi mustered a frown on his face—not the most expressive, but enough for [Name] to read the doubt behind it. "Are you lying?"

[Name] lifted a brow and blinked, silent, pondering. "Why would I?" Her eyes narrowed.

Akaashi blinked. A deafening silence filled the space between them, seeping into his eardrums to claw at them, snaking around her throat to choke her. They suffocated, feeling the same weight pressing down on their chests, forcing every ounce of air out of them. Whoever breathed in first was declared the loser. Both of them refused to stand down. He knew she was lying. She knew he was onto her.

Akaashi gave in. "I'll see you downstairs." He sent her a nod, which she mimicked as a reply. Without a moment's hesitation, he turned on his heels and disappeared down the hall.

[Name] swallowed the lump in her throat as her door clicked shut. Her thumbs rapidly flicked her tears away before they fell. She wondered why she wanted to burst out crying.

A lie had never scorched her lips so badly. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him…"

It was a feeble attempt to convince herself—she was on the right track, she was doing what she was meant to do. But eventually he _would_ know and it would definitely hurt him.

 **"Happy new year!"** Bokuto had cheered as soon as the elevator doors opened.

Of course, shrine visits were done as tradition during the first day of the year. How such a famous date had slipped her mind, [Name] couldn't tell. Out of mere politeness, she bowed to the two boys, parroting Bokuto's words with more distaste than intended. The glance Akaashi shot her didn't go amiss; it simply got ignored.

[Name] stood on the sidelines, watching as the volleyball players clapped their hands and offered their gratitude at the shrine. They did their silent praying, which seemed rehearsed at that point in their lives.

Her opinion on new year wishes and the act of praying stood in the same plane as everything else: pointless, useless, fruitless. It wasn't a topic she had any interest in debating anyway, so she never bothered putting much thought into it.

Shrine visits on Winter mornings had been a part of her childhood, when she grabbed her parents by the hand and skipped cheerfully through the snow. She remembered laughing at her brother when his fortune read _curse_ , only to pull hers and find a _great curse_ jeering at her. Standing there, surrounded by chattering people and puffs of condensed air every time someone opened their mouth, she allowed a fond smile to reach her lips. It felt like a trip down memory lane; a lane that had been covered by overgrown weeds after not being used for so many years.

A déjà vu slapped her across the face when Akaashi suggested they pulled their fortunes. Bokuto's excitement dissipated in a wink when his eyes scanned the words _great curse_ staring back at him. [Name] and Akaashi shared a laugh at his expense. Akaashi showed his own fortune, earning an insulted huff from his captain at his _half blessing_. [Name] patted his back in mock comfort.

Once [Name] had managed to convince Bokuto that he didn't need to depend on a strip of paper to win nationals, Akaashi cleared his throat to earn his upperclassmen's attention. "Do you want to head to my apartment and have some coffee?"

[Name] pulled her hand away from Bokuto to adjust her scarf. An awkward tension settled between the neighbors. "What if I decline?" She cocked a brow at Akaashi, words muffled by the wool covering half of her face.

"That's not a option."

"Figures." [Name] sighed and rolled her eyes playfully. A forced chuckle made her left shoulder jolt. "Bokuto-san, are you joining us?"

"Yeah! Can I have milk or something, though? I don't like coffee…"

"I know, Bokuto-san, don't worry."

Bokuto's face lit up as his eyes glimmered. He excitedly pumped his fists in the air and bolted down the stairs, paying no heed to Akaashi's concern in the form of a _Careful, Bokuto-san, it's slippery!_ [Name] giggled to herself, fastening her pace to match Akaashi's while they walked down to catch up to the enthusiastic ace. Her laughter died soon enough, vanishing into mist, swept away with the Winter breeze.

Friendships sucked as much as they were fantastic—that was [Name]'s takeaway from her three-month relationship with Akaashi. The tension from their earlier exchange remained in the air, following the two of them with synced steps; a dense shadow creeping up behind them, completely silent.

 _What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him._ [Name] side-eyed her neighbor every now and again, hoping he would be the one to cut through the silence with his pestering inquiries. Inquiries which didn't seem as pestering anymore now that his quietness had come forth. She never thought she would miss pointless small talk.

"Are you mad at me?" Her words fell from her lips before she could even process them. She cringed internally at the way her own voice hesitated.

"Why would I?"

"Please, don't use my words against me, Keiji-san."

"Why do you think I'm mad?"

"You know, I just feel like there's an unnecessary tension between us and it's driving me mad—please, don't laugh!"

Akaashi earned himself an unexpectedly strong slap on his bicep, but his laughter didn't cease. "I was wondering how much longer you'd glance at me like a nervous wreck."

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you concerned about our talk this morning?"

"Yeah… I, uh, I'm sorry about lying…"

"It's fine. You don't have to tell me everything, [Name]-san. You can just say if you don't want to explain something."

[Name] stared at him with bulging eyes. "Oh…" She blinked. "Oh, aren't you the worst? I was _this_ close to crying, I thought I'd messed up. Did you have fun watching me suffer, huh?"

"Will you get mad if I say yes?"

"I might. Take your chances."

"Yes."

[Name] audibly gasped. She erupted into giggles before flipping Akaashi off. Grasping the railing by her side, she rushed down the last couple of steps towards Bokuto. "Hey, Bokuto-san!" Akaashi smiled as she called for his captain, raising her voice enough for him to hear her. "Is there any chance I can make you my new neighbor? I'm ending my friendship with Keiji-san."

"Wait, how come you're on a first name basis with each other?!"

"Bokuto-san, we've been do—"

"I want in! Come on, Akaa—Keiji, call me Koutarou!"

Akaashi flinched both on the inside and on the outside. [Name] snickered to herself. "[Name]-san, _please_. Can we just head back?" As [Name] shrugged her shoulders with a content smile, Bokuto opened up his mouth one more time. Akaashi was quicker. "No, Bokuto-san, I won't call you by your first name."

"Akaashi…"

"Hey, you two, we're gonna miss our train! Hurry it up!"

 **The fact that** memory lane wouldn't be revisited ever again felt like a punch in her gut. God, it was so fun.

Laughing at Bokuto, bickering with Akaashi, watching _Monster High_ , sharing inside jokes with Konoha, and the list could go on. But it had to come to an end, even if it felt painfully impossible to let go of such kind people. [Name] had been avoiding becoming acquainted with her classmates to minimize the last struggle as much as possible. Although, at the end of the day, she didn't regret becoming Akaashi's friend and cheering him on during practice. She didn't regret anything.

Sitting across from her neighbor, cold fingers sucking up the warmth of the beans Akaashi had grinded for her, [Name] didn't regret anything. The human brain worked in curious ways—what she so much feared would become an obstacle, instead turned out to be a sigh of relief; an experience she was glad to have had. A serene smile settled on her lips.

One of Akaashi's chair screeched next to her, making her lift her eyes from the black coffee in her hands. Bokuto sat down while taking a sip from his very sugary, foamy milk. "What're your plans for the future, [Name]? You look like you'd pursue something smart. Law?"

Across from them, Akaashi snorted. [Name] turned to him with a knowing smile. He apologized, covering his chuckles with his closed fist. "You don't believe in law either, do you?"

"Of course I don't."

"Then?"

Then… Then _what_?

Even after coming to terms with it, her tongue still refused to roll the right way and articulate the words. Some things were transmitted better through ink and paper.

A bitter laugh fell from her mouth. "I don't really have any plans. My only goal was to finish high-school, but I don't know anymore." Her eyes softened as she stared at her warped reflection on her coffee. Akaashi brewed great coffee. The smile on her lips became more tender.

"Why's that? Graduation's right around the corner." Akaashi's words made much more sense than her head ever could. She wondered how things would have played out if they had met earlier. It was a melancholic thought.

"It is, isn't it?" [Name] blew out a sigh, dripping with nostalgia for something she had never known. Her eyes locked with Akaashi's and she recognized concern in the blue of his irises. Perhaps fear in the way they trembled; she hadn't seen his gaze quiver before. "What about you, Bokuto-san?"

"I'm gonna go pro in volleyball!" Bokuto's chest filled with pride and excitement as he shot [Name] a blinding grin. "I'll become a worldwide ace! You'll come cheer for me when I'm in the big leagues, won't you?!" He stared into [Name] with those wide, glimmering eyes of his that resembled a curious owl.

From the corner of her eye, [Name] caught Akaashi's furrowed brows. Was he expecting her to spit out an empty _maybe_? Her shoulders bounced with laughter. "I wish you luck with that, then. You can do it." How warming it felt to hear about fresh hopes and dreams, knowing that hers had been rotting in the trash bin for years. Bokuto's beam only widened.

"[Name]-san." [Name] hummed in response, sipping her coffee. "Are you staying over tonight?"

"Do you want me to?"

There was silence and a whispered cheer coming from Bokuto. Akaashi ignored his captain. "Yes, please."

"Sure thing."

As her smile overflowed with content and the self-realization Akaashi loved so much, she allowed space for a new conclusion in her mind. Making memories to look back on was far better than avoiding them all together. Even if she could never turn to spare them a glance, that didn't mean everyone around her wouldn't. When the time finally came for Akaashi to know, recalling would soften the blow of reality.


	20. Friday 11th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning!  
> mentions of suicide

**¡WARNING!** theres mentions of suicide ahead. also, theres an afterword that id appreciate you read. hold on tightly, cause this is almost 4000 words long. thank you so much for reading!

* * *

 **Akaashi stepped through** the metal gates and onto the brick path, appreciating the familiar scenery of his apartment complex. The lights in the main lobby were turned on and shining brightly against the crystal double-doors; an eye-catching contrast against the pure darkness of that moonless night. His long fingers, exhausted from handling and tossing volleyballs for the past days, wrapped loosely around his phone as he scanned through the exchanged words. [Name]'s messages took him back to the previous Saturday.

Nationals had been intense. Bokuto's emo mode stealing the spotlight during their very first match already had shaved ten years off his life. But his team was strong and incredibly capable with or without their simpleton ace—although having their ace working alongside everyone else was pretty satisfying.

Akaashi had, of course, played his best as well, despite the occasional trip here and there. After all, he had wanted to show [Name] just how much fun she could have watching a volleyball game. Sure, she had stayed multiple times during afternoon practice, but the match at the Spring Tournament was her first official match ever. First impressions mattered a lot.

If her messages had told him anything, it was that she had made time among all her school work to drop by and watch them play. _Keiji-san,_ she had written in kanji. _You can do it. I'll be watching._ He could have sworn that when pointing at Hinata watching on the side, he caught a glimpse of [Name] wearing her teal scarf as she cheered them on from behind a sea of people. Weirdly enough, she hadn't seen—let alone responded to—any of his texts after their match on Saturday.

As he scrolled through the messages left unread, he wondered if [Name] would brew the coffee this time for him. He was pretty tired, what with playing match after match, rally after rally, and then celebrating with his team until that Friday. Maybe she would be willing to boil the water and grind the beans herself for a change. He pressed down on [Name]'s phone number and brought the device to his ear. It rang; once, twice, thrice—voicemail. He shoved his phone into his gym bag.

The lock of the double doors clicked behind Akaashi after he entered the building, the warmth from the internal heating greeted him with a welcoming hug. His eyes traveled instantly to the elevator; he wanted to check on his neighbor before anything else. [Name] was never one to pick up her phone, as he had come to find out, but not replying to his messages made questions and concerns rise. Chances were she had broken her phone during one of her episodes, or perhaps she was opting to ignore everything and actually catch up on school work. He'd have to find out.

Sending a polite nod to the elder receptionist—whose name he _still_ didn't know—, he headed for the elevator with steps faster than intended. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of his name being called. "Akaashi-kun, do you have a second?" Akaashi craned his neck backwards and met the grimacing eyes of the old man.

With one hesitant glance to the steel doors of the elevator, he walked over to the reception counter. "Is everything okay, sir?" The man had produced a sealed envelope and a scarf from behind the counter, setting them atop the furniture for Akaashi to see. Akaashi's long fingers tightened around the strap of his bag.

A scarf. A woolen scarf. A teal, woolen scarf. Was that [Name]'s scarf?

The man smiled at him; a smile that brimmed with pity and a weak attempt at comfort. "[Name]-san left this for you. I saved it until you came back." Akaashi's throat closed up. He glowered with wavering eyes at the scarf before him. The teal became black as it reached towards him to swallow him into nothingness. "It's such a shame." The receptionist's words bounced off his ears while he glared at his name, written in messy kanji on the back of the white envelope. "Who would've thought she was struggling so much? She was such a nice girl, too, always greeting good morning and wishing good days all around."

Why did he keep speaking in the past tense? Why was [Name]'s scarf trying to choke him? Why was his name written in kanji with [Name]'s handwriting? [Name] hated kanji. "Excuse me." Akaashi finally found the voice to ask his questions. As much as he feared the possible answers, he knew he had to get at least one. His tongue burned. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, did you not receive the news?" The term _news_ made his heart rate pick up, his palms sweat, his fingers twitch, his mouth dry. He managed to shake his head in response. "Oh, dear… Poor [Name]-san took her own life last Saturday."

Blank. Akaashi's head turned blank. The sentence alone took what felt like endless eons to sink in. The previous Saturday, as he played his first match of the Spring Tournament, [Name] commi—impossible. It was impossible, simply impossible. He had _seen_ her; [Name] had been sitting on the bleachers, cheering him and his team on. She had sent text messages of encouragement. She had said she'd be watching—she _had been_ watching. Akaashi knew for a fact [Name] had been there with him.

He hadn't imagined it, had he?

"I—That can't be right. She—[Name], she—[Name]-san messaged me. She wished me luck on my match. What do you mean she's dead…?" Akaashi Keiji, normally cool and collected, stood completely flabbergasted and perplexed, stumbling over his words and spouting his neighbor's name without honorifics, as if they were best friends since diapers. They were nothing, after all; not friends, not acquaintances, not classmates, he wondered if they were even neighbors.

The receptionist's smile softened, but all Akaashi could see with his trembling pupils was a condescending sneer. It called him a useless fool. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Akaashi-kun." The man prodded the sealed envelope closer to his stiff figure. Akaashi wanted nothing more than to rip it to shreds. "Maybe you should read what she had to say to you. The police said this letter was the only one in the room, apart from the money for reparations."

The more the old man spoke, the more his brain tripped over itself. He couldn't understand. He really couldn't understand a thing. [Name] had died after assuring him over and over she had no intentions of taking her own life. Akaashi had found [Name] was surprisingly skilled at lying. However, he had never imagined she would lie about such a bold decision. Such a _painful_ decision. All of his progress, the one he had cradled so proudly in his cupped hands, faded away in the blink of an eye.

Like a fool, he had thought he was helping, when in reality [Name] remained the same fidgety [Name] with dangerous ideas in that complex brain of hers. He bought her lies, her silence, and her evasions without hesitation. Like a fool. Like a fucking fool.

But hearing there was only one letter—apart from whatever a _reparations_ letter meant—, and it was addressed to _him_ brought him an indescribable sense of relief. He was confused as he was relieved. Maybe they had been friends after all. Maybe she had trusted him after all. Maybe not all her words had been lies.

"Stay strong, Akaashi-kun," the man spoke again after Akaashi's silent, internal battle. His smile had become tender once more. Akaashi nodded, clumsily grabbed [Name]'s belongings, and marched with heavy footsteps to the elevator.

His attention strayed to the right, to the door beside the elevator. He was quick to decide he would take the stairs.

 **The number-plate** glared into him, mocking him with only three digits. 404. He had come to hate that number. Below the plate, a rectangular sign stuck to the wood. It read _Under maintenance. Please, do not enter_. Akaashi skimmed over the words before reaching for the doorknob. His brows rose when the door gave way without a fight.

Finally, after three months of knowing [Name], he was at last entering her apartment. The one she had been so adamant on never visiting, the one in which she produced all those loud noises at night, the one she called her home yet felt so unwelcoming.

Apartment 404: [Name]'s apartment.

A merciless gust of freezing air slapped him across the face as soon as he pushed the door open. Akaashi flinched surprised. His hand blindly groped the wall for a light switch, and in an instant the flat was flooded with light. He stepped inside, holding in his breath, fearing a mere puff of air would shatter the entire building in the blink of an eye. The door shut behind him, his bag dropped to the floor, and he glared at the dent in the wood as he was wrapped in a biting cold.

Now he understood why [Name] never wanted him over at her apartment and what _reparations_ meant. Right by the door, lined-up one next to the other, were trash bags full to the top. He frowned at their contents: broken pieces of wood and porcelain. Deep into the room, he could spot the fluttering of black curtains, dancing frantically alongside the Winter wind. The window was clearly closed, yet the cold barged in through the cracked glass, missing pieces leaving a gigantic gap in the crystal. To his side, he found the opened door of the restroom. He peered inside, only to find a shattered mirror and ground-up mirror shards stained with dried blood, scattered over the white tiles.

The connection popped in Akaashi's head in a split second. [Name] had smashed and walked on her mirror, huh? He felt a pitiful grimace twisting his face.

Closing the door gently, as if to keep the frail memory of [Name] breaking down inside the bathroom, Akaashi stepped away from it. He analyzed his surroundings thoroughly; he needed to understand how [Name] spent her days before somberly reading her last words to him. There was no dining table, no chairs, no sofa, no television. Glancing into her kitchen, only a tied-up trash bag sat by itself. Cupboards and pantry completely empty, drawers saving solely a fork, a knife, and metal chopsticks still in their package.

Akaashi sighed. If her apartment was built anything like his, he was missing only one room, which he dreaded the most. The door to [Name]'s dark bedroom was wide open, allowing a full view to her unmade bed. As a pleasant surprise, he was met with a wooden desk. Compared to every other corner in [Name]'s place, her desk actually looked presentable. Her booklets and textbooks were neatly piled up and sitting on a corner. There were cups holding pencils and pens and markers.

He grabbed the chair tucked beneath the desk and settled down on it. The window by [Name]'s bed was wide open, blinds pulled up to open the path to head out onto the balcony. Akaashi gazed at the moonless sky briefly, before his eyes unconsciously traveled to the swaying rope taunting him. He frowned and immediately looked away. It sent chills down his spine.

Filling his lungs with air and courage, Akaashi turned [Name]'s lamp on. His hand trembled as he retrieved the sealed envelope from his pocket. _Akaashi Keiji_ , it said in perfect kanji, although sloppy, as if the hand that had written it wasn't familiar with the characters—which was probably true. He gulped audibly while ripping the envelope open with a pair of scissors.

Two sheets of folded paper came out.

 _“Akaashi Keiji,  
this is my third attempt to write this, so bear with me here.”_ A smile bloomed on his lips and he released a puffed chuckle. Even while writing a suicide note, [Surname] [Name] remained as nonchalant as ever.

_“I tried to warn you, but you didn't understand. I'm not sorry, though. I did my best, I know I did, I just couldn't win against your stubbornness. Even now, after I've gone through with my decision, I don't expect you to understand, nor do I want you to. What you'll read in this letter is not only all over the place, 'cause my head is still a mess, but it's also very cold. I suggest you read it with a cup of tea, and, mostly, with an open mind.”_ Akaashi sighed. There was no time for tea.

_“First off, let's get the blame out of the way, shall we? I feel you're that type of selfless dumbass that would blame themself, feeling they should've done more or tried harder, you know what I'm saying? Just to let you know, you did more than enough. In fact, you did **something** —”_ the word _something_ had been traced over with a highlighter, _“—which I didn't think possible. I wasn't planning on letting you do a single thing when you first talked to me that stupid Monday back in Fall. But you somehow managed and I don't know how; pat yourself on the back for that one. If anything, I should be the one to blame, but that's also bullshit. No one's at fault here, yeah? It is what it is. Let's move on._

_I'm fully aware you tried your best to befriend me (which you succeeded in, mind you) and help me out. You wanted me to become one of the warm ones, didn't you? I told you time and time again that it was impossible, not just because I was born like a fool in the cold, but because I never wanted to become warm. It wouldn't have fit me. I never bothered even giving it a thought. Why do you think I moved here to live all on my own? Because after reading so many books and living new experiences every couple of days, I concluded that I didn't want that. I was fourteen and finishing middle-school when I realized that the praise around me was as empty as the hate; when I realized that life is all about compromises; that you give and take, and when you take more than you give you're an asshole, but when you give more than you take you're an idiot.”_

"That's such a sad outlook, though." His words fell from his lips in a soft murmur, brows bending in a grimace.

 _“It sounds very philosophically depressed, doesn't it? But the truth is that I hate having to live through all those pointless trade-offs, when I know I'm just going to die in the end. I'm only accelerating the process. "That's a very sad outlook on life," you'd say—”_ Akaashi laughed to himself, _“—and you might be right. Maybe it is. But it's the one I'm comfortable with, because it makes sense in my head. I realized so many things that I turned into the mess you came to befriend. Anxious, and scared, and weak, and nihilistic. My head's been such an indecisive and hesitant mess ever since I reached all these conclusions that I ended up confusing myself and losing myself. Those were the moments when I most wanted to die and you'd hear me destroy my own apartment. Because everything was a blur and I didn't know what to do, so I just wanted it all to disappear. My goal was to finish high-school, but I didn't want to take my chances and wait until Spring. You couldn't have changed my decision no matter what. Had you asked me to marry you or give a speech to congratulate you on your marriage, I was never meant to live that long. This had all been planned, even before you met me, and I knew I was going to go through with it._

 _There's something that wasn't in my plans at all, and that's where you come in, Keiji-san. This very note you're hopefully still reading, 'cause I did stay up these past couple nights to write it—”_ more laughter bubbled in his throat, _“—wasn't supposed to exist; I didn't want to write it. I had planned to stay away from my family (I lied, my parents aren't abroad) and take every precaution at Fukuroudani to not make friends. I did everything to avoid people as best as I could to prevent the pain of waking up one day and finding a hand-written note instead of a breathing person. I wanted to soften the blow and cause as little trouble to everyone around me as possible. But then you came around, you talked to me, you forced me to become your friend (thanks!)—”_ there was a smiling face drawn between the parenthesis. Akaashi mirrored it. _“—you reminded me how nice it was to have dinner with company and that I deserved to have a good night's rest somewhere warm and cozy. I'm writing this letter solely because I owe you some closure and I'm not about to leave such a great friend so abruptly without a goodbye. I don't believe in goodbyes either, but I can make an exception this time._

_To be completely honest, I'd wanted to tell you about my decision. I'd wanted to tell you not to waste your time on someone that wouldn't make it past Spring. I tried to a couple times, but I guess I was too much of a coward to actually bring myself to say it to your face. In the end, I think it was for the best, you know? I wonder if you would've missed nationals because of me. Hopefully no, but better safe than sorry. That's why I waited until you were gone to do it. I'm still not sure if it was the best decision and I guess I won't ever know. What do you think?”_

Akaashi closed his eyes to halt himself from reading further. He gave the idea some thought and whispered, "…I don't know, either." Had he known [Name] was planning on dying after all, would he have done anything? What _could_ he have done anyway? It was too late to ponder over it.

_“My original idea was to graduate and then die, but you changed practically everything. We started walking to and from school together, I spent more time over at your apartment than at mine, I saved the team's numbers on my phone, and I even checked out one of your guys' matches before killing myself. Although maybe I pushed my luck too much on that one. I may have never been able to leave and then it would've been too late. This isn't to say I died earlier because of you! Not at all!! In fact, you did more good than bad. If it hadn't been for how annoyingly persistent you were, I would've died consumed by the stupid cold. Thanks to you I saw Bokuto-san shine, Konoha-san tried to take me out on a date, Shirofuku-san and Suzumeda-san taught me about volleyball, and so much more. But I was scared of falling too deep into their warmth and not being able to leave—or to put it simply, I was afraid of getting attached and not being able to commit suicide when Spring came. It's been so fun to be with you guys, so it's not like I didn't care what happened to me. It's just that reality is very flickering and Spring was too far away.”_

[Name] had known her way around words and was capable of molding them into beautiful lies he despised. But when she spoke straightforwardly, writing down with her own thoughts the kanji characters for _suicide_ , he wished she would have lied once more. He couldn't stand the sight of verbs being expressed in the past tense when talking about her life.

_“It had to be now, because later I would have been all alone in the cold again. That's how it's always been. Thanks to you, Keiji-san, I'm dying without regrets and that stupid self-realization you talked about. I'm glad to have made memories._

_There is one thing I'm **very** sorry about and I would kneel to beg for your forgiveness (knowing full well that you would give it to me without hesitation, right?). I told you countless times how you were too warm and how scared I was of getting burned. You never burned me, Keiji-san. You were the right amount of warm and always shone so brightly, yet quietly. It was so comforting. And I selfishly took full advantage of your softness. I completely disregarded the fact that the cold can also burn. I'm sure I've burned you. I'm really sorry._

_**Keiji-san, I'm truly sorry.**_

_It's because I'm sorry that I want you to keep my scarf. Winter's at its peak and it's very cold out there, so I don't want you to get burned by anyone or anything ever again, yeah? My scarf always kept me warm, so I think it'll work for you, too. Will you keep it?”_

"Of course I will. Thanks, [Name]-san."

_“I wonder if you replied. You're welcome.”_

Akaashi laughed, huffing through his nose like she liked to do.

_“To bring this long-ass essay to an end once and for all, I only want to thank you. Sounds like some sappy shit, I'm aware, but hear me out. Read me out? Sorry, I'm nervous. **Thanks.** Thank you for being warm and never burning me, for your time and effort, for your friendship and sharing your friends, which I don't dare call mine. Most of all, thank you for letting me indulge in your warmth, for making me actually **live** these past three months and for allowing me to die without regrets. Thank you so much, Keiji-san. I'll be watching. You can do it._

_—[Name]  
| 2013 / 5 / 1 |”_

**Monday morning rolled** around faster than Akaashi would've liked. He had wanted to rest over the weekend after enjoying a warm cup of comforting coffee, yet he had fallen asleep on [Name]'s desk. Saturday and Sunday were spent pondering, but never searching for where to point his fingers. He understood [Name] would have come back to life to kick him for trying to find where to pin the blame for her suicide.

On his way to school on that Winter morning, he made sure to buy a single white lily, similar to the one he had placed by—what once had been—[Name]'s door. He appreciated the lack of morning practice as he walked through the third-years' hall. Peeking inside the classroom, he narrowed his eyes in pity at the heavy silence among the students. It seemed they all were trying their best to avoid looking at their dead classmate's former desk.

Of course, Akaashi had no clue which desk [Name] used to sit on, but it wasn't hard to distinguish it; the only one decorated with a teal vase of white lilies had to be [Name]'s. Excusing himself, he entered the classroom, turning heads in his direction at the interruption of uncomfortable silence. Shirofuku and Suzumeda smiled weakly at him, nodding in acknowledgement. He placed his flower among the other dozen and promptly left.

A Winter breeze nipped at his cheeks while he marched through the hallway. Akaashi couldn't tell where it came from. Maybe he was just imagining it—imagining the numbing cold that stole all feeling from the tips of his long fingers. He felt the sheer algor trying to drag him like it had dragged [Name]. But he knew better than to let it win and fought against it with the warmth of his teal scarf, wrapping kindly around his neck in a soft embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> onto the real issue here. i chose a very sensitive, if you will, topic to write about. mental health, and battling mental health, and suicide. it sends a strong, negative message to have the mc, struggling with mental health, commit suicide at the end of the story, doesnt it? i realized this when i was already 11 chapters in and it was too late to go back on my plans. not like i had wanted to go back on my plans.
> 
> im not here to get political, so i wont share my thoughts on suicide or the value of one's own life. im here to share the writing i do at 4am while shaking like an anxious idiot cause im sleep deprived and wake up at 8am to clean. but by no means do i intend the message of this fanfiction to be "go ahead, kill yourselves." absolutely not. mental health is an incredibly tough battle against something you cant even see.
> 
> i made sure to not give the mc's condition a label. i didnt want to just say "welp, she's depressed" or any other existent disorders. the only actual thing i gave her was these "episodes" in which she "loses herself" and everything becomes blurry and confusing and scary. i did base those off my own anxiety attacks, but its not to say the mc's got anxiety. whether i did this for more relatability or just to avoid giving explanations, i dont know. keep in mind i was still figuring some things out a month after publishing.
> 
> to anyone out there struggling with a mental illness, dont let this story written by a high-schooler high on caffeine influence your decisions or give you any ideas. the only reason the character i created committed suicide was because i deliberately built her in a way in which she believed suicide was the way to go. but everyone reading this is not a character; you are all real people, with real life struggles. you do you.
> 
> i was scared of not only publishing this, but also writing it. its such a delicate topic that i didnt want to rush it and end it quick. i gave each word a lot of thought and you can even see i stalled a lot before reading the letter. the letter itself was 4 pages, and the chapter was 11 in total, so imagine how much bullshit descriptions i spouted before actually going into the note.
> 
> there was a lot of stuff around me telling me not to kill the mc. i saw posts saying stuff like "make your character go through shit and then reward them" and more like that. everything i saw, i interpreted as a message yelling at me that i shouldnt make the mc commit suicide. but it didnt seem fitting to me, i didnt want to censor something as striking as this.
> 
> the character i created was stubborn and dead set on her ideals and beliefs. she lied to "protect others" until the very end. she kept most things to herself while still being open about wanting to die. how "realistic" would it have been to have this character not die? sure, maybe i couldve had akaashi barge in seconds before she hanged herself to stop her, cause i did think about that. but that didnt make sense. akaashi trusted she would be fine on her own, and she was. just that their definitions of "fine" differed a bit.
> 
> i think this is everything i wanted to say. i wanted to justify why i went with such a bold decision and hopefully it makes sense. it's fine if it doesnt, i went into this note without a plan.
> 
> anyway, i think i cleared up everything and there are no plot holes anywhere. if there are any doubts, im willing to answer them in the comments. friendly reminder comments mean a lot, not only to me but to every author on every platform. and we all be needing feedback tbh.
> 
> thanks again for reading!


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